HISTORY OF GREECE.
BY
GEORGE GROTE, Esq.
VOL. XI.
REPRINTED FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
329 AND 331 PEARL STREET.
1880.
PREFACE TO VOL. XI.
This History has already occupied a far larger space than I at first intended or anticipated.
Nevertheless, to bring it to the term marked out in my original preface—the close of the generation contemporary with Alexander, on whose reign we are about to enter—one more Volume will yet be required.
That Volume will include a review of Plato and Aristotle, so far as the limits of a general history permit. Plato, indeed, belonging to the period already described, is partially noticed in the present Volume; at an epoch of his life when, as counsellor of Dionysius II., he exercised positive action on the destinies of Syracuse. But I thought it more convenient to reserve the appreciation of his philosophical character and influence, until I could present him in juxtaposition with his pupil Aristotle, whose maturity falls within the generation now opening. These two distinguished thinkers will be found to throw light reciprocally upon each other, in their points both of contrast and similarity.
G. G.
London, April 15, 1853.
CONTENTS.
VOL. XI.
PART II.
CONTINUATION OF HISTORICAL GREECE.
CHAPTER LXXXIII.
SICILIAN AFFAIRS (continued). — FROM THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CARTHAGINIAN ARMY BY PESTILENCE BEFORE SYRACUSE, DOWN TO THE DEATH OF DIONYSIUS THE ELDER. B. C. 394-367.
Frequent occurrence of pestilence among the Carthaginians, not extending to the Greeks in Sicily. — Mutiny among the mercenaries of Dionysius — Aristoteles their commander is sent away to Sparta. — Difficulties of Dionysius arising from his mercenaries — heavy burden of paying them. — Dionysius reëstablishes Messênê with new inhabitants. — Conquests of Dionysius in the interior of Sicily. — Alarm at Rhegium — Dionysius attacks the Sikel town of Tauromenium — desperate defence of the Sikels — Dionysius is repulsed and nearly slain. — Agrigentum declares against Dionysius — reäppearance of the Carthaginian army under Magon. — Expedition of Dionysius against Rhegium — he fails in surprising the town — he concludes a truce for one year. — Magon again takes the field at Agyrium — is repulsed by Dionysius — truce concluded. — Dionysius again attacks Tauromenium — captures it, drives out the Sikels, and plants new inhabitants. — Plans of Dionysius against the Greek cities in Southern Italy — great pressure upon these cities from the Samnites and Lucanians of the interior. — Alliance contracted among the Italiot Greeks, for defence both against the Lucanians and against Dionysius — Dionysius allies himself with the Lucanians. — Dionysius attacks Rhegium — the Rhegines save the Krotoniate fleet — fleet of Dionysius ruined by a storm. — Defeat of the inhabitants of Thurii by the Lucanians — Leptines with the fleet of Dionysius off Läus — his conduct towards the survivors. — Fresh expedition of Dionysius against the Italiot Greeks — his powerful armament — he besieges Kaulonia. — United army of the Italiot Greeks advances to relieve the place — their advanced guard is defeated, and Helôris the general slain. — The whole army is defeated and captured by Dionysius. — Generous lenity of Dionysius towards the prisoners. — Dionysius besieges Rhegium — he grants to them peace on severe terms. — He captures Kaulonia and Hipponium — inhabitants transported to Syracuse — territory made over to Lokri. — Artifices of Dionysius to impoverish and disarm the Rhegines. — He besieges Rhegium — desperate defence of the town under the general Phyton — Surrender of the place from famine, after a blockade of eleven months. — Cruel treatment of Phyton by Dionysius. — Strong sympathy excited by the fate of Phyton. — Rhegium dismantled — all the territory of the southern Calabrian peninsula united to Lokri. — Peace of Antalkidas — ascendent position of Sparta and of Dionysius — Kroton conquered by Dionysius — Splendid robe taken from the temple of Hêrê. — Schemes of Dionysius for transmarine colonies and conquests, in Epirus and Illyria. — Dionysius plunders the coast of Latium and Etruria, and the rich temple of Agylla. — Immense power of Dionysius — his poetical compositions. — Olympic festival of 384 B. C., the first after the peace of Antalkidas — Dionysius sends thither a splendid legation — also chariots to run — and poetical compositions to be recited. — Feelings of the crowd at the festival — Dikon of Kaulonia. — Harangue of Lysias at the festival against Dionysius, in reference to the political state of the Grecian world, and the sufferings of the enslaved Sicilians. — Hatred of the past, and fear of the future conquests of Dionysius, both prevalent. — Lysias exhorts his hearers to destroy the tents of the Syracusan legation at Olympia, as an act of retribution against Dionysius. — Explosion of antipathy against the poems of Dionysius recited at Olympia — insults heaped upon his name and person. — Excessive grief, wrath, and remorse, of Dionysius on hearing of this manifestation against him — his suspicions and cruelties. — Marked and singular character of the manifestation against Dionysius. — Plato visits Syracuse — is harshly treated by Dionysius — acquires great influence over Dion. — New constructions and improvements by Dionysius at Syracuse. — Intention of Dionysius to renew the war with Carthage. — War with Carthage — Victory of Dionysius over the Carthaginian army under Magon. — Second battle with the Carthaginians at Kronium, in which Dionysius is defeated with terrible loss. — He concludes peace with Carthage, on terms very unfavorable to himself: all the territory west of the river Halykus is surrendered to Carthage: he covenants to pay tribute to Carthage. — Affairs of Southern Italy: wall across the Calabrian peninsula projected, but not executed. — Relations of Dionysius with Central Greece. — New war undertaken by Dionysius against Carthage. He is at first successful, but is ultimately defeated near Lilybæum, and forced to return home. — Dionysius gains the prize of tragedy at the Lenæan festival at Athens. His joy at the news. He dies of fever soon afterwards. — Character of Dionysius.
CHAPTER LXXXIV.
SICILIAN AFFAIRS AFTER THE DEATH OF THE ELDER DIONYSIUS — DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER — AND DION.
Family left by Dionysius at his death. — Dion — his connection with the Dionysian family. — Personal character of Dion. — Plato, Dion, and the Pythagorean philosophers. — Extraordinary influence of Plato upon Dion. — Dion learns to hate the Dionysian despotism — he conceives large political and reformatory views. — Alteration of habits in Dion — he brings Plato into communication with Dionysius. — Dion maintains the good opinion and confidence of Dionysius, until the death of the latter — his visits to Peloponnesus. — Death of the elder Dionysius — divergences of interest between the two lines of family. — The younger Dionysius succeeds his father — his character. — Conduct of Dion — he submits to the younger Dionysius — gives him frank and wholesome advice. — Dion acquires great influence and estimation from Dionysius. — Recall of Philistus from exile. — Dion tries to work upon the mind of Dionysius towards a freer political government and mental improvement. — His earnest exhortations produced considerable effect, inspiring Dionysius with a strong desire to see and converse with Plato. — Invitation sent to Plato, both by Dion and by Dionysius. — Hesitation of Plato — he reluctantly consents to visit Syracuse. — Plato visits Syracuse — unbounded deference and admiration manifested towards him at first by Dionysius — Fear and hatred felt by Philistus and other courtiers. — Injudicious manner in which Plato dealt with Dionysius. — Strenuous exhortations addressed by Plato and Dion to Dionysius, to reform himself. — Plato damps the inclination of Dionysius towards Political good. — If Plato had tried to impel Dionysius towards a good practical use of his power, Dionysius might at that time have obeyed him with the aid of Dion. — Difficulties which they would have encountered in trying to realize beneficent projects. — Intrigues by Philistus and others to set Dionysius against Plato and Dion. — Relations between Dionysius and Dion — natural foundation for jealousy on the part of Dionysius. — Dionysius loses his inclinations towards political improvements — comes to hate Dion. — Banishment of Dion from Syracuse to Italy. — Dionysius retains Plato in the acropolis, but treats him well, and tries to conciliate his esteem. — He dismisses Plato — then recalls him — second visit of Plato to Syracuse — his dissatisfaction — Dionysius refuses to recall Dion. — Dionysius confiscates the property of Dion — mortification of Plato, who with difficulty obtains leave to depart from Syracuse. — Resolution of Dion to avenge himself on Dionysius, and to force his way back to Syracuse by arms. — Plato rejoins Dion in Peloponnesus — exasperation of Dion — Dionysius gives his sister Aretê, the wife of Dion, in marriage to Timokrates. — Means of auxiliaries of Dion — Plato — the Academy — Alkimenes. Dion musters his force at Zakynthus. — Small force of Dion against the prodigious power of Dionysius. Resolution of Dion to conquer or perish. — Circumstances which told against Dionysius — discontent at Syracuse. — Herakleides exiled from Syracuse — he projects an attack upon Dionysius, at the same time as Dion. — Weakness of character — dissolute and drunken habits — of Dionysius himself. — Alarm of the soldiers of Dion at Zakynthus, when first informed that they were going against Dionysius. — Eclipse of the moon — religious disquietude of the soldiers — they are reassured by the prophet Miltas — fortunate voyage from Zakynthus to Sicily. — Dion lands at Herakleia — he learns that Dionysius with a large fleet has just quitted Syracuse for Italy. — March of Dion from Herakleia to Syracuse. — Dion crosses the river Anapus, and approaches the gates of Syracuse. — Mistake of Timokrates, left as governor of Syracuse in the absence of Dionysius. — General rising of the Syracusans to welcome and assist Dion. Timokrates is obliged to evacuate the city, leaving Ortygia and Epipolæ garrisoned. — Entry of Dion into Achradina — joy of the citizens — he proclaims liberty. — Dion presents himself at the Pentapyla in front of Ortygia — challenges the garrison of Ortygia to come out and fight — is chosen general by the Syracusans, with his brother Megakles. — Dion captures Epipolæ and Euryalus. He erects a cross-wall from sea to sea, to block up Ortygia. — Return of Dionysius to Syracuse. He tries to negotiate with Dion and the Syracusans — deceives them by fallacious propositions. — Sudden sally made by Dionysius to surprise the blockading wall — great bravery, efforts, and danger of Dion — he at length repulses the attack and recovers the wall. — Ortygia is again blocked up by land — efforts of Dionysius with his fleet — arrival of Herakleides from Peloponnesus with a fleet to coöperate against Dionysius. — Arrival of Philistus with his fleet to the aid of Dionysius. Battle in the Great Harbor between the fleet of Philistus and that of the Syracusans — Philistus is defeated and slain. — Intrigues of Dionysius against Dion in Syracuse. — Relationship of Dion to the Dionysian dynasty — suspicions entertained against him by the Syracusans — his haughty manners. Rivalry of Herakleides. — Herakleides is named admiral. Dion causes him to be deposed, and then moves himself for his re-appointment. — Intrigues and calumnies raised against Dion in Syracuse, by the management of Dionysius. — Mistrust of Dion by the Syracusans, mainly in consequence of his relationship to the Dionysian family. Calumnies of Sôsis. — Farther propositions of Dionysius. He goes away from Ortygia to Italy, leaving his son Apollokrates in command of the garrison. — Increased dissension between Dion and Herakleides — Dion is deposed and his soldiers deprived of the pay due to them — new generals are named. — Dion is forced to retreat from Syracuse — bad conduct of the new generals and of the people towards his soldiers. — Dion reaches Leontini — the Leontines stand by him against the Syracusans — arrival of Nypsius with a reinforcement to the Dionysian garrison in Ortygia. — Advantage gained by Herakleides and the Syracusans over Nypsius as he came into Ortygia — extravagant confidence in Syracuse — Nypsius sallies from Ortygia, and forces his way into Neapolis and Achradina. — Danger and distress of the Syracusans — they send to Leontini to invoke the aid of Dion. — Assembly at Leontini — pathetic address of Dion. — Reluctance of Herakleides to let Dion into Syracuse — renewed assault from Nypsius — unanimous prayers now sent to invite Dion. — Entrance of Dion into Syracuse — he draws up his troops on Epipolæ. Frightful condition of the city. — Dion drives back Nypsius and his troops into Ortygia — he extinguishes the flames, and preserves Syracuse. — Universal gratitude on the part of the Syracusans, towards Dion. Herakleides and Theodotes throw themselves upon his mercy. — Dion pardons Herakleides — his exposition of motives. — Remarkable features in this act of Dion. — Dion re-establishes the blockade of Ortygia, and ransoms the captives taken. — Dion is named general on land, at the motion of Herakleides, who is continued in his command of the fleet. — Attempt to supersede Dion through Gæsylus the Spartan — good conduct of Gæsylus. — Surrender of Ortygia by Apollokrates to Dion. — Entry of Dion into Ortygia — restoration of his wife — speedy death of his son. — Conduct of Dion in the hour of triumph. — Suspicions previously entertained respecting Dion — that he was aiming at the despotism for himself — confirmed by his present conduct. — He retains his dictatorial power, with the fortress and garrison of Ortygia — he grants no freedom to Syracuse. — Intention of Dion to constitute himself king, with a Lykurgean scheme of government and discipline. — Mistake of Dion as to his position. — Dion takes no step to realise any measure of popular liberty. — Opposition raised against Dion by Herakleides — impatience of the Syracusans to see the demolition of the Dionysian strongholds and funeral monument. — Dion causes Herakleides to be privately slain. — Increased oppressions of Dion — hatred entertained against him in Syracuse. — Disquietude and irritability of Dion on account of his unpopularity. — Conspiracy of Kallippus against him — artifices and perjury. — Kallippus causes Dion to be assassinated. — Life, sentiments, and altered position, of Dion.
CHAPTER LXXXV.
SICILIAN AFFAIRS DOWN TO THE CLOSE OF THE EXPEDITION OF TIMOLEON. B. C. 353-336.
Position and prospects of Kallippus, after the assassination of Dion. — He continues master of Syracuse more than a year. His misrule. Return of Hipparinus son of Dionysius to Syracuse. Expulsion of Kallippus. — Miserable condition of Syracuse and Sicily, as described by Plato. — Plato’s recommendations fruitless — state of Syracuse grows worse. Dionysius returns to Ortygia, expelling Hipparinus. — Drunken habits of the Dionysian princes. — Lokri — dependency and residence of the younger Dionysius. — Sufferings of the Italiot Greeks from the Lucanians and Bruttians of the interior. — Dionysius at Lokri — his unpopularity and outrageous misrule — cruel retaliation of the Lokrians upon his female relatives. — Distress of the Syracusans — fresh danger from Carthage. They invoke the aid of Hiketas — in concert with Hiketas, they send to entreat aid from Corinth. Secret alliance of Hiketas with the Carthaginians — he conspires to defeat the application to Corinth. — Application from Syracuse favorably received by the Corinthians — vote passed to grant aid. — Difficulty in finding a Corinthian leader — most of the leading citizens decline — Timoleon is proposed and chosen. — Antecedent life and character of Timoleon. — His conduct towards his brother Timophanes, whose life he saves in battle. — Timophanes makes himself despot, and commits gross oppression — Timoleon with two companions puts him to death. — Beneficial effects of the act upon Corinth — sentiment towards Timoleon. — Bitter reproach of Timoleon by his mother. — Intense mental distress of Timoleon. He shuts himself up and retires from public life. — Different judgments of modern and ancient minds on the act of Timoleon. Comments of Plutarch. — Timoleon is appointed commander to Syracuse — he accepts the command — admonition of Telekleides. — Preparations made by Timoleon — his scanty means — he engages some of the Phokian mercenaries. — Bad promise of the expedition — second message from Hiketas, withdrawing himself from the Corinthian alliance, and desiring that no troops might be sent to Sicily. — Timoleon sets out for Sicily with a small squadron — favorable omens from the gods. — Timoleon arrives at Rhegium — is prevented from reaching Sicily by a Carthaginian fleet of superior force — insidious message from Hiketas. — Stratagem of Timoleon to get across to Sicily, in collusion with the Rhegines. — Public meeting in Rhegium — Timoleon and the Carthaginians both present at it — long speeches, during which Timoleon steals away, contriving to send his fleet over to Sicily. — Timoleon at Tauromenium in Sicily — formidable strength of his enemies — despots in Sicily — despondency in Syracuse. — Success of Timoleon at Adranum. He surprises and defeats the troops of Hiketas, superior in number. — Improved position and alliances of Timoleon — he marches up to the walls of Syracuse. — Position of Dionysius in Ortygia — he resolves to surrender that fortress to Timoleon, stipulating for safe conveyance and shelter at Corinth. — Timoleon sends troops to occupy Ortygia, receiving Dionysius into his camp. — Timoleon sends news of his success to Corinth, with Dionysius himself in a trireme. — Great effect produced at Corinth — confidence of the citizens — reinforcement sent to Timoleon. — Sight of the fallen Dionysius at Corinth — impression made upon the Greeks — numerous visitors to see him. Conversation with Aristoxenus. — Immense advantage derived by Timoleon from the possession of Ortygia — numerous stores found in it. — Large Carthaginian army under Magon arrives to aid in attacking Ortygia. Defeated by Neon, during the absence of Magon and Hiketas. Neon acquires Achradina, and joins it by a line of wall to Ortygia. — Return of Magon and Hiketas to Syracuse — increased difficulty of their proceedings, since the victory of Neon. — Return of Timoleon to Syracuse — fortunate march and arrival of the Corinthian reinforcement. — Messênê declares in favor of Timoleon. — He establishes his camp near Syracuse. — Magon distrusts Hiketas and his position at Syracuse — he suddenly withdraws his army and fleet, leaving Syracuse altogether. — Timoleon masters Epipolæ and the whole city of Syracuse — Hiketas is obliged to escape to Leontini. — Languid defence made by the troops of Hiketas. — Great effect produced by the news that Timoleon was master of Syracuse. — Extraordinary admiration felt towards Timoleon — especially for the distinguished favor shown to him by the gods. — Timoleon ascribes all his success to the gods. — Temptations of Timoleon in the hour of success — easy possibility of making himself despot of Syracuse. — Timoleon invited the Syracusans to demolish the Dionysian stronghold in Ortygia. — He erects courts of justice on the site. — Desolate condition of Syracuse and other cities in Sicily. Recall of exiles. Application on the part of Timoleon and the Syracusans to Corinth. — Commissioners sent from Corinth to Syracuse — they revive the laws and democracy enacted by Dioklês — but with various changes and additions. — Poverty at Syracuse — necessity for inviting new colonists. — Large body of new colonists assembled at Corinth for Sicily. — Influx of new colonists into Sicily from all quarters. — Relief to the poverty of Syracuse. — Successes of Timoleon against Hiketas, Leptines, and other despots in Sicily — Hiketas invites the Carthaginians again to invade Sicily. — The Carthaginians land in Sicily with a vast army, including a large proportion of native troops. — Timoleon marches from Syracuse against the Carthaginians — mutiny of a portion of his mercenaries under Thrasius — Timoleon marches into the Carthaginian province — omen about the parsley. — He encounters the Carthaginian army while passing the Krimêsus. War chariots in their front — Timoleon orders his cavalry to charge. — Strenuous battle between the infantry of Timoleon and the native Carthaginian infantry. Terrible storm — complete victory of Timoleon. — Severe loss of the Carthaginians in the battle, especially of their native troops. Booty collected by the soldiers of Timoleon. — Discouragement and terror among the defeated army as well as at Carthage itself. — Great increase of glory to Timoleon — favor of the gods shown to him in the battle. — Timoleon returns to Syracuse — he dismisses Thrasius and the mercenaries who had deserted him — he sends them out of Sicily — their fate. — Success of Timoleon against Hiketas and Mamerkus. — Victory gained by Timoleon over Hiketas, at the river Damurias. — Timoleon attacks Hiketas and Leontini. The place (with Hiketas in person) is surrendered to Timoleon by the garrison. Hiketas and his family are put to death. — Timoleon gains a victory over Mamerkus — he concludes peace with the Carthaginians. — Timoleon conquers and takes prisoners Mamerkus and Hippon. Mamerkus is condemned by the Syracusan public assembly. — Timoleon puts down all the despots in Sicily. — Timoleon lays down his power at Syracuse. — Gratitude and reward to him by the Syracusans. — Great influence of Timoleon, even after he had laid down his power. — Immigration of new Greek settlers into Sicily, to Gela, Agrigentum, Kamarina, etc. — Value and importance of the moral ascendency enjoyed by Timoleon, in regulating these new settlements. — Numerous difficulties which he would be called upon to adjust. — Residence of Timoleon at Syracuse — chapel to the goddess Automatia. — Arrival of the blind Timoleon in the public assembly of Syracuse during matters of grave and critical discussion. — Manner in which Timoleon bore contradiction in the public assembly — his earnest anxiety to ensure freedom of speech against himself. — Uncorrupted moderation and public spirit of Timoleon. — Xenophontic ideal — command over willing free men — qualities, positive as well as negative, of Timoleon. — Freedom and comfort diffused throughout all Sicily for twenty-four years, until the despotism of Agathokles. — Death and obsequies of Timoleon. — Proclamation at his funeral — monument to his honor. — Contrast of Dion and Timoleon.
CHAPTER LXXXVI.
CENTRAL GREECE: THE ACCESSION OF PHILIP OF MACEDON TO THE BIRTH OF ALEXANDER. 359-356 B. C.
Central Greece resumed. — State of Central Greece in 360-359 B. C. — Degradation of Sparta. — Megalopolis — Messênê — their fear of Sparta — no central action in Peloponnesus. — Corinth, Sikyon, etc. — Comparatively good condition of Athens. — Power of Thebes. — Extinction of the free cities of Bœotia by the Thebans — repugnant to Grecian feeling. — Thessaly — despots of Pheræ. — Alexander of Pheræ — his cruelties — his assassination. — Tisiphonus despot of Pheræ — loss of power in the Pheræan dynasty. — Macedon — reign and death of Perdikkas. — Philip as a youth at Thebes — ideas there acquired — foundation laid of his future military ability. — Condition of Philip at the death of Perdikkas. — Embarrassments and dangers with which he had to contend. — Macedonian government. — Proceedings of Philip against his numerous enemies. His success — Thracians — Athenians. — He evacuates Amphipolis. He defeats Argæus and the Athenians — his mild treatment of Athenian prisoners. — Philip makes peace with Athens — renounces his claim to Amphipolis. — Victories of Philip over the Pæonians and Illyrians. — Amphipolis evacuated by Philip — the Athenians neglect it. — State of Eubœa — the Thebans foment revolt and attack the island — victorious efforts of Athens. — Surrender of the Chersonese to Athens. — Social War — Chios, Kos, Rhodes, and Byzantium revolt from Athens. — Causes of the Social War — conduct of the Athenians. — Synod at Athens. — Athens acts more for her own separate interests, and less for that of her allies — her armaments on service — badly paid mercenaries — their extortions. — The four cities declare themselves independent of Athens — interference of the Karian Mausôlus. — Great force of the revolters — armament despatched by Athens against Chios — repulse of the Athenians, and death of Chabrias. — Farther armaments of Athens — Iphikrates, Timotheus, and Chares — unsuccessful operations in the Hellespont, and quarrel between the generals. — Iphikrates and Timotheus are accused by Chares at Athens — Iphikrates is acquitted, Timotheus is fined and retires from Athens. — Arrogance and unpopularity of Timotheus, attested by his friend Isokrates. — Exile of Timotheus — his death soon afterwards. — Iphikrates no more employed — great loss to Athens in these two generals. — Expedition of Chares — Athens makes peace with her revolted allies, recognizing their full autonomy. — End of the Social War — great loss of power to Athens. — Renewed action of Philip. He lays siege to Amphipolis. — The Amphipolitans send to ask assistance from Athens — manœuvres of Philip to induce Athens not to interfere. — The Athenians determine not to assist Amphipolis — their motives — importance of this resolution. — Capture of Amphipolis by Philip, through the treason of a party in the town. — Importance of Amphipolis to Philip — disappointment of the Athenians at his breach of promise. — Philip amuses the Athenians with false assurances — he induces them to reject advances from the Olynthians — proposed exchange of Pydna for Amphipolis. — Philip acts in a hostile manner against Athens — he conquers Pydna and Potidæa — gives Potidæa to the Olynthians — remissness of the Athenians. — Increase of the power of Philip — he founds Philippi, opens gold mines near Mount Pangæus, and derives large revenues from them. — Marriage of Philip with Olympias — birth of Alexander the Great.
CHAPTER LXXXVII.
FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SACRED WAR TO THAT OF THE OLYNTHIAN WAR.
Causes of the Sacred War — the Amphiktyonic assembly. — Political complaint brought before the assembly, first by Thebes against Sparta. — Next, by Thebes against the Phokians. The Phokians are condemned and heavily fined. — The assembly pass a vote consecrating the Phokian territory to Apollo. — Resolution of the Phokians to resist — Philomelus their leader. — Question of right raised as to the presidency of the temple — old right of the Phokians against that of the Delphians and the Amphiktyons. — Active measures taken by Philomelus. He goes to Sparta — obtains aid from king Archidamus. He seizes Delphi — defeats the Lokrians. — Philomelus fortifies the temple — levies numerous mercenaries — tries to conciliate Grecian sentiment. The Grecian world divided. — Philomelus tries to retain the prophetic agency — conduct of the Pythia. — Battles of Philomelus against the Lokrians — his success. — Exertions of the Thebans to raise a confederacy against the Phokians. — Danger of the Phokians — they take part of the treasures of the temple, in order to pay a mercenary force. — Numerous mercenaries employed by the Phokians — violence and ferocity of the war — defeat and death of Philomelus. — Onomarchus general of the Phokians — he renews the war — his power by means of the mercenaries. — Violent measures of Onomarchus — he employs the treasures of the temple to scatter bribes through the various cities. — Successes of Onomarchus — he advances as far as Thermopylæ — he invades Bœotia — is repulsed by the Thebans. — The Thebans send a force under Pammenes to assist Artabazus in Asia Minor. — Conquest of Sestos by Chares and the Athenians. — Intrigues of Kersobleptes against Athens — he is compelled to cede to her his portion of the Chersonese — Athenian settlers sent thither, as well as to Samos. — Activity and constant progress of Philip — he conquers Methônê — remissness of Athens. — Philip marches into Thessaly against the despots of Pheræ. — Great power of Onomarchus and the Phokians — plans of Athens and Sparta — the Spartans contemplate hostilities against Megalopolis. — First appearance of Demosthenes as a public adviser in the Athenian assembly. — Parentage and early youth of Demosthenes — wealth of his father — dishonesty of his guardians. — Youth of Demosthenes — sickly and feeble constitution — want of physical education and bodily vigor. — Training of Demosthenes for a speaker — his instructors — Isæus — Plato — his devoted study of Thucydides. — Indefatigable efforts of Demosthenes to surmount his natural defects as a speaker. — Value set by Demosthenes upon action in oratory. His mind and thoughts — how formed. — He becomes first known as a logographer or composer of speeches for litigants. — Phokion — his antithesis and rivalry with Demosthenes — his character and position — his bravery and integrity. — Lasting hold acquired by his integrity on the public of Athens. — Number of times that he was elected general. — His manner of speaking — effective brevity — contempt of oratory. — His frankness — his contempt of the Athenian people — his imperturbability — his repulsive manners. — Phokion and Eubulus the leaders of the peace-party, which represented the strongly predominant sentiment at Athens. — Influence of Phokion mischievous during the reign of Philip — at that time Athens might have prevailed over Macedonia. — Change in the military spirit of Greece since the Peloponnesian war. Decline of the citizen soldiership: increased spread of mercenary troops. Contrast between the Periklean and the Demosthenic citizen. — Decline of military readiness also among the Peloponnesian allies of Sparta. — Multiplication of mercenary soldiers — its mischievous consequences — necessity of providing emigration. — Deterioration of the Grecian military force occurred at the same time with the great development of the Macedonian force. — Rudeness and poverty of the Macedonians — excellent material for soldiers — organizing genius of Philip. — First parliamentary harangue of Demosthenes — on the Symmories — alarm felt about Persia. — Positive recommendations in the speech — mature thought and sagacity which they imply. — His proposed preparation and scheme for extending the basis of the Symmories. — Spirit of the Demosthenic exhortations — always impressing the necessity of personal effort and sacrifice as conditions of success. — Affairs of Peloponnesus — projects of Sparta against Megalopolis — her attempt to obtain coöperation from Athens. — Views and recommendations of Demosthenes — he advises that Athens shall uphold Messênê and Megalopolis. — Philip in Thessaly — he attacks Lykophron of Pheræ, who calls in Onomarchus and the Phokians — Onomarchus defeats Philip. — Successes of Onomarchus in Bœotia — maximum of the Phokian power. — Philip repairs his forces and marches again into Thessaly — his complete victory over the Phokians — Onomarchus is slain. — Philip conquers Pheræ and Pagasæ — becomes master of all Thessaly — expulsion of Lykophron. — Philip invades Thermopylæ — the Athenians send a force thither and arrest his progress. Their alarm at this juncture, and unusual rapidity of movement. — Phayllus takes the command of the Phokians — third spoliation of the temple — revived strength of the Phokians — malversation of the leaders. — War in Peloponnesus — the Spartans attack Megalopolis — interference of Thebes. — Hostilities with indecisive result — peace concluded — autonomy of Megalopolis again recognized. — Ill success of the Phokians in Bœotia — death of Phayllus, who is succeeded by Phalækus. — The Thebans obtain money from the Persian king. — Increased power and formidable attitude of Philip. Alarm which he now begins to inspire throughout the Grecian world. — Philip acquires a considerable navy — importance of the Gulf of Pagasæ to him — his flying squadrons annoy the Athenian commerce and coast. — Philip carries on war in Thrace — his intrigues among the Thracian princes. — He besieges Heræon Teichos: alarm at Athens: a decree is passed to send out a fleet: Philip falls sick: the fleet is not sent. — Popularity of the mercenary general Charidemus — vote in his favor proposed by Aristokrates — speech composed by Demosthenes against it. — Languor of the Athenians — the principal peace-leaders, Eubulus, Phokion, etc., propose nothing energetic against Philip — Demosthenes undertakes the duty. — First Philippic of Demosthenes, 352-351 B. C. — remarks and recommendations of the first Philippic. Severe comments on the past apathy of the people. — He insists on the necessity that citizens shall serve in person, and proposes the formation of an acting fleet and armament. — His financial propositions. — Mischiefs of the past negligence and want of preparation — harm done by the mercenary unpaid armaments, serving without citizens. — Characteristics of the first Philippic — prudent advice and early warnings of Demosthenes. — Advice of Demosthenes not carried into effect: no serious measures adopted by Athens. — Opponents of Demosthenes at Athens — speakers in the pay of Philip — alarm about the Persian king still continues.
CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
EUBOIC AND OLYNTHIAN WARS.
Change of sentiments at Olynthus — the Olynthians afraid of Philip — they make peace with Athens. — Unfriendly feelings of Philip towards Olynthus — ripening into war in 350 B. C. — Fugitive half-brothers of Philip obtain shelter at Olynthus. — Intrigues of Philip in Olynthus — his means of corruption and of fomenting intestine discord. — Conquest and destruction of the Olynthian confederate towns by Philip, between 350-347 B. C. terrible phenomena. — Philip attacks the Olynthians and Chalkidians — beginning of the Olynthian war, 350 B. C. — The Olynthians conclude alliance with Athens. — The Athenians contract alliance with Olynthus — earliest Olynthiac speech of Demosthenes. — The Second Olynthiac is the earliest — its tone and tenor. — Disposition to magnify the practical effect of the speeches of Demosthenes — his true position — he is an opposition speaker. — Philip continues to press the Olynthian confederacy — increasing danger of Olynthus — fresh applications to Athens. — Demosthenes delivers another Olynthiac oration — that which stands First, in the printed order. Its tenor. — Just appreciation of the situation by Demosthenes. He approaches the question of the Theôric Fund. — Assistance sent by Athens to Olynthus. Partial success against Philip. — Partial and exaggerated confidence at Athens. The Athenians lose sight of the danger of Olynthus. Third Olynthiac of Demosthenes. — Tenor and substance of the third Olynthiac. — Courage of Demosthenes in combating the prevalent sentiment. — Revolt of Eubœa from Athens. — Intrigues of Philip in Eubœa. — Plutarch of Eretria asks aid from Athens. Aid is sent to him under Phokion, though Demosthenes dissuades it — Treachery of Plutarch — danger of Phokion and the Athenians in Eubœa — victory of Phokion at Tamynæ. — Dionysiac festival at Athens in March, 349 B. C. — Insult offered to Demosthenes by Meidias. — Reproaches against Demosthenes for having been absent from the battle of Tamynæ — he goes over on service to Eubœa as a hoplite — he is named senator for 349-348 B. C. — Hostilities in Eubœa, during 349-348 B. C. — Great efforts of Athens in 349 B. C. for the support of Olynthus and the maintenance of Eubœa at the same time. — Financial embarrassments of Athens. Motion of Apollodorus about the Theôric Fund. The assembly appropriate the surplus of revenue to military purposes. — Apollodorus is indicted and fined. — The diversion of the Theôric Fund proves the great anxiety of the moment at Athens. — Three expeditions sent by Athens to Chalkidikê in 349-348 B. C. according to Philochorus. — Final success of Philip — capture of the Chalkidic towns and of Olynthus. — Sale of the Olynthian prisoners — ruin of the Greek cities in Chalkidikê. — Cost incurred by Athens in the Olynthian war. — Theôric Fund — not appropriated to war purposes until a little before the battle of Chæroneia. — Views respecting the Theôric Fund. — It was the general Fund of Athens for religious festivals and worship — distributions were one part of it — character of the ancient religious festivals. — No other branch of the Athenian peace-establishment was impoverished or sacrificed to the Theôric expenditure. — The annual surplus might have been accumulated as a war-fund — how far Athens is blamable for not having done so. — Attempt of the Athenian property-classes to get clear of direct taxation by taking from the Theôric Fund. — Conflict of these two feelings at Athens. Demosthenes tries to mediate between them — calls for sacrifices from all, especially personal military service. — Appendix.
CHAPTER LXXXIX.
FROM THE CAPTURE OF OLYNTHUS TO THE TERMINATION OF THE SACRED WAR BY PHILIP.
Sufferings of the Olynthians and Chalkidians — triumph and festival of Philip. — Effect produced at Athens by the capture of Olynthus — especially by the number of Athenian captives taken in it. — Energetic language of Eubulus and Æschines against Philip. — Increased importance of Æschines. — Æschines as envoy of Athens in Arcadia. — Increasing despondency and desire for peace at Athens. — Indirect overtures for peace between Athens and Philip, even before the fall of Olynthus — the Eubœans — Phrynon, etc. — First proposition of Philokrates — granting permission to Philip to send envoys to Athens. — Effect produced upon the minds of the Athenians by their numerous captive citizens taken by Philip at Olynthus. — Mission of the actor Aristodemus from the Athenians to Philip on the subject of the captives. Favorable dispositions reported from Philip. — Course of the Sacred War — gradual decline and impoverishment of the Phokians. Dissensions among themselves. — Party opposed to Phalækus in Phokis — Phalækus is deposed — he continues to hold Thermopylæ with the mercenaries. — The Thebans invoke the aid of Philip to put down the Phokians. — Alarm among the Phokians — one of the Phokian parties invites the Athenians to occupy Thermopylæ — Phalækus repels them. — Increased embarrassment at Athens — uncertainty about Phalækus and the pass of Thermopylæ. — The defence of Greece now turned on Thermopylæ — importance of that pass both to Philip and to Athens. — Motion of Philokrates in the Athenian assembly — to send envoys to Philip for peace. — Ten Athenian envoys sent — Demosthenes and Æschines among them. — Journey of the envoys to Pella. — Statements of Æschines about the conduct of Demosthenes — arrangements of the envoys for speaking before Philip. — Harangue addressed by Æschines to Philip about Amphipolis. Failure of Demosthenes in his speech. — Answer of Philip — return of the envoys. — Review of Æschines and his conduct, as stated by himself. — Philip offers peace on the terms of uti possidetis — report made by the Athenian envoys on their return. — Proceedings in the Athenian assembly after the return of the envoys — motions of Demosthenes. — Arrival of the Macedonian envoys at Athens — days fixed for discussing the peace. — Resolution taken by the synod of allies at Athens. — Assemblies held to discuss the peace, in presence of the Macedonian envoys. — Philokrates moves to conclude peace and alliance with Philip. He proposes to exclude the Phokians specially. — Part taken by Æschines and Demosthenes — in reference to this motion. Contradictions between them. — Æschines supported the motion of Philokrates altogether — Demosthenes supported it also, except as to the exclusion of the Phokians — language of Eubulus. — Motion of Philokrates carried in the assembly, for peace and alliance with Philip. — Assembly to provide ratification and swearing of the treaty. — Question, Who were to be received as allies of Athens? — about the Phokians and Kersobleptes. — The envoy of Kersobleptes is admitted, both by the Athenian assembly and by the Macedonian envoys. — The Macedonian envoys formally refuse to admit the Phokians. — Difficulty of Philokrates and Æschines. Their false assurances about the secret good intentions of Philip towards the Phokians. — The Phokians are tacitly excluded — the Athenians and their allies swear to the peace without them. — Ruinous mistake — false step of Athens in abandoning the Phokians — Demosthenes did not protest against it at the time. — The oaths are taken before Antipater, leaving out the Phokians. — Second embassy from Athens to Philip. — Demosthenes urges the envoys to go immediately to Thrace in order to administer the oath to Philip — they refuse — their delay on the journey and at Pella. — Philip completes his conquest of Thrace during the interval. — Embassies from many Grecian states at Pella. — Consultations and dissensions among the Ten Athenian envoys — views taken by Æschines of the ambassadorial duties. — The envoys address Philip — harangue of Æschines. — Position of Demosthenes in this second embassy. — March of Philip to Thermopylæ — he masks his purposes, holding out delusive hopes to the Phokians. Intrigues to gain his favor. — The envoys administer the oaths to Philip at Pheræ, the last thing before their departure. They return to Athens. — Plans of Philip on Thermopylæ — corrupt connivance of the Athenian envoys — letter from Philip which they brought back to Athens. — Æschines and the envoys proclaim the Phokians to be excluded from the oaths with Philip — protest of Demosthenes in the Senate, on arriving at Athens, against the behavior of his colleagues — vote of the Senate approving his protest. — Public assembly at Athens — successful address made to it by Æschines — his false assurances to the people. — The Athenian people believe the promises of Philokrates and Æschines — protest of Demosthenes not listened to. — Letter of Philip favorably received by the assembly — motion of Philokrates carried, decreeing peace and alliance with him forever. Resolution to compel the Phokians to give up Delphi. — Letters of Philip to the Athenians, inviting them to send forces to join him at Thermopylæ — policy of these letters — the Athenians do nothing. — Phokian envoys heard these debates at Athens — position of Phalækus at Thermopylæ. — Dependence of the Phokians upon Athenian aid to hold Thermopylæ. — News received at Thermopylæ of the determination of Athens against the Phokians. — Phalækus surrenders Thermopylæ under convention to Philip. He withdraws all his forces. — All the towns in Phokis surrender at discretion to Philip, who declares his full concurrence with the Thebans. — Third embassy sent by the Athenians to Philip — the envoys return without seeing him, on hearing of the Phokian convention. — Alarm and displeasure at Athens — motion of Kallisthenes for putting the city in a good state of defence — Æschines and other Athenian envoys visit Philip in Phokis — triumphant celebration of Philip’s success. — Fair professions of Philip to the Athenians, after his conquest of Thermopylæ: language of his partisans at Athens. — The Amphiktyonic assembly is convoked anew. Rigorous sentence against the Phokians. They are excluded from the assembly, and Philip is admitted in their place. — Ruin and wretchedness of the Phokians. — Irresistible ascendency of Philip. He is named by the Amphiktyons presiding celebrator of the Pythian festival of 346 B. C. — Great change effected by this peace in Grecian political relations. Demosthenes and Æschines — proof of dishonesty and fraud in Æschines, even from his own admissions. — This disgraceful peace was brought upon Athens by the corruption of her own envoys. — Impeachment and condemnation of Philokrates. — Miserable death of all concerned in the spoliation of the Delphian temple.
CHAPTER XC.
FROM THE PEACE OF 346 B. C. TO THE BATTLE OF CHÆRONEIA AND THE DEATH OF PHILIP.
Position of Philip after the conclusion of the Sacred War. — Sentiments of Demosthenes — he recommends acquiescence in the peace, and recognition of the new Amphiktyonic dignity of Philip. — Sentiments of Isokrates — his letter to Philip — his abnegation of free Hellenism. — Position of the Persian king Ochus — his measures against revolters in Phenicia and Egypt. — Reconquest of Phenicia by Ochus — perfidy of the Sidonian prince Tennes. — Reconquest of Egypt by the Persian force under Mentor and Bagoas. — Power of Mentor as Persian viceroy of the Asiatic coast — he seizes Hermeias of Atarneus. — Peace between Philip and the Athenians, continued without formal renunciation from 346-340 B. C. — Movements and intrigues of Philip everywhere throughout Greece. — Disunion of the Grecian world — no Grecian city recognized as leader. — Vigilance and renewed warnings of Demosthenes against Philip. — Mission of Python to Athens by Philip — amendments proposed in the recent peace — fruitless discussions upon them. — Dispute about Halonnesus. — The Athenians refuse to accept cession of Halonnesus as a favor, claiming restitution of it as their right. — Halonnesus taken and retaken — reprisals between Philip and the Athenians. — Movements of the philippizing factions at Megara — at Oreus — at Eretria. — Philip in Thrace — disputes about the Bosphorus and Hellespont — Diopeithes commander for Athens in the Chersonese. Philip takes part with the Kardians against Athens. Hostile collisions and complaints against Diopeithes. — Accusations against Diopeithes at Athens by the philippizing orators — Demosthenes defends him — speech on the Chersonese, and third Philippic. — Increased influence of Demosthenes at Athens — Athenian expedition sent, upon his motion, to Eubœa — Oreus and Eretria are liberated, and Eubœa is detached from Philip. — Mission of Demosthenes to the Chersonese and Byzantium — his important services in detaching the Byzantines from Philip, and bringing them into alliance with Athens. — Philip commences the siege of Perinthus — he marches through the Chersonesus — declaration of war by Athens against him. — Manifesto of Philip, declaring war against Athens — Complaints of Philip against the Athenians — his policy towards Athens — his lecture on the advantages of peace. — Open war between Philip and the Athenians. — Siege of Perinthus by Philip. His numerous engines for siege — great scale of operations. Obstinacy of the defence. The town is relieved by the Byzantines, and by Grecian mercenaries from the Persian satraps. — Philip attacks Byzantium — danger of the place — it is relieved by the fleets of Athens, Chios, Rhodes, etc. Success of the Athenian fleet in the Propontis under Phokion. Philip abandons the sieges both of Perinthus and Byzantium. — Votes of thanks from Byzantium and the Chersonesus to Athens for her aid — honors and compliments to Demosthenes. — Philip withdraws from Byzantium, concludes peace with the Byzantines, Chians, and others, and attacks the Scythians. He is defeated by the Triballi, and wounded, on his return. — Important reform effected by Demosthenes in the administration of the Athenian marine. — Abuses which had crept into the trierarchy — unfair apportionment of the burthen — undue exemption which the rich administrators had acquired for themselves. — Individual hardship, and bad public consequences, occasioned by these inequalities. — Opposition offered by the rich citizens and by Æschines to the proposed reform of Demosthenes — difficulties which he had to overcome. — His new reform distributes the burthen of trierarchy equitably. — Its complete success. Improved efficiency of the naval armaments under it. — New Sacred War commences in Greece. — Kirrha and its plain near Delphi consecrated to Apollo, in the first Sacred War under Solon. — Necessity of a port at Kirrha, for the convenience of visitors to Delphi. Kirrha grows up again, and comes into the occupation of the Lokrians of Amphissa. — Relations between the Lokrians of Amphissa and Delphi — they had stood forward earnestly in the former Sacred War to defend Delphi against the Phokians. — Amphiktyonic meeting at Delphi — February, 339 B. C. Æschines one of the legates from Athens. — Language of an Amphissian speaker among the Amphiktyons against Athens — new dedication of an old Athenian donative in the temple. — Speech of Æschines in the Amphiktyonic assembly. — Passion and tumult excited by his speech. — Violent resolution adopted by the Amphiktyons. — The Amphiktyons with the Delphian multitude march down to destroy Kirrha — interference of the Amphissians to rescue their property. They drive off the Amphiktyons. — Farther resolution taken by the Amphiktyons to hold a future special meeting and take measures for punishing the Lokrians. — Unjust violence of the Amphiktyons — public mischief done by Æschines. — Effect of the proceeding of Æschines at Athens. Opposition of Demosthenes at first fruitless. — Change of feeling at Athens — the Athenians resolve to take no part in the Amphiktyonic proceedings against Amphissa. — Special meeting of the Amphiktyons at Thermopylæ, held without Athens. Vote passed to levy a force for punishing Amphissa. Kottyphus president. The Amphiktyons invoke the intervention of Philip. — Motives which dictated the vote — dependence of most of the Amphiktyonic voters upon Philip — Philip accepts the command — marches southward through Thermopylæ. — Philip enters Phokis. — He suddenly occupies, and begins to re-fortify Elateia. — He sends an embassy to Thebes, announcing his intention to attack Attica, and asking either aid, or a free passage for his own army. — Unfriendly relations subsisting between Athens and Thebes. Hopes of Philip that Thebes would act in concert with him against Athens. — Great alarm at Athens, when the news arrived that Philip was fortifying Elateia. — Athenian public assembly held — general anxiety and silence — no one will speak but Demosthenes. — Advice of Demosthenes to despatch an embassy immediately to Thebes, and to offer alliance on the most liberal terms. — The advice of Demosthenes is adopted — he is despatched with other envoys to Thebes. — Divided state of feeling at Thebes — influence of the philippizing party — effect produced by the Macedonian envoys. — Efficient and successful oratory of Demosthenes — he persuades the Thebans to contract alliance with Athens against Philip. — The Athenian army marches by invitation to Thebes — cordial coöperation of the Thebans and Athenians. — Vigorous resolutions taken at Athens — continuance of the new docks suspended — the Theôric Fund is devoted to military purposes. — Disappointment of Philip — he remains in Phokis, and writes to his Peloponnesian allies to come and join him against Amphissa. — War of the Athenians and Thebans against Philip in Phokis — they gain some advantages over him — honors paid to Demosthenes at Athens. — The Athenians and Thebans reconstitute the Phokians and their towns. — War against Philip in Phokis — great influence of Demosthenes — auxiliaries which he procured. — Increased efforts of Philip in Phokis. — Successes of Philip — he defeats a large body of mercenary troops — he takes Amphissa. — No eminent general on the side of the Greeks — Demosthenes keeps up the spirits of the allies, and holds them together. — Battle of Chæroneia — complete victory of Philip. — Macedonian phalanx — its long pikes — superior in front charge to the Grecian hoplites. — Excellent organization of the Macedonian army by Philip — different sorts of force combined. — loss at the battle of Chæroneia. — Distress and alarm at Athens on the news of the defeat. — Resolutions taken at Athens for energetic defence. Respect and confidence shown to Demosthenes. — Effect produced upon some of the islanders in the Ægean by the defeat — conduct of the Rhodians. — Conduct of Philip after the victory — harshness towards Thebes — greater lenity to Athens. — Conduct of Æschines — Demades is sent as envoy to Philip. — Peace of Demades, concluded between Philip and the Athenians. The Athenians are compelled to recognize him as chief of the Hellenic world. — Remarks of Polybius on the Demadean peace — means of resistance still possessed by Athens. — Honorary votes passed at Athens to Philip. — Impeachment brought against Demosthenes at Athens — the Athenians stand by him. — Expedition of Philip into Peloponnesus. He invades Laconia. — Congress held at Corinth. Philip is chosen chief of the Greeks against Persia. — Mortification to Athenian feelings — degraded position of Athens and of Greece. No genuine feeling in Greece now, towards war against Persia. — Preparations of Philip for the invasion of Persia. — Philip repudiates Olympias at the instance of his recently married wife, Kleopatra — resentment of Olympias and Alexander — dissension at Court. — Great festival in Macedonia — celebrating the birth of a son to Philip by Kleopatra, and the marriage of his daughter with Alexander of Epirus. — Pausanias — outrage inflicted upon him — his resentment against Philip, encouraged by the partisans of Olympias and Alexander. — Assassination of Philip by Pausanias, who is slain by the guards. — Accomplices of Pausanias. — Alexander the great is declared king — first notice given to him by the Lynkestian Alexander, one of the conspirators — Attalus and queen Kleopatra, with her infant son, are put to death. — Satisfaction manifested by Olympias at the death of Philip. — Character of Philip.
HISTORY OF GREECE.
CHAPTER LXXXIII.
SICILIAN AFFAIRS (continued). — FROM THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CARTHAGINIAN ARMY BY PESTILENCE BEFORE SYRACUSE, DOWN TO THE DEATH OF DIONYSIUS THE ELDER. B. C. 394-367.
In my preceding volume, I have described the first eleven years of the reign of Dionysius called the Elder, as despot at Syracuse, down to his first great war against the Carthaginians; which war ended by a sudden turn of fortune in his favor, at a time when he was hard pressed and actually besieged. The victorious Carthaginian army before Syracuse was utterly ruined by a terrible pestilence, followed by ignominious treason on the part of its commander Imilkon.
Within the space of less than thirty years, we read of four distinct epidemic distempers,[1] each of frightful severity, as having afflicted Carthage and her armies in Sicily, without touching either Syracuse or the Sicilian Greeks. Such epidemics were the most irresistible of all enemies to the Carthaginians, and the most effective allies to Dionysius. The second and third,—conspicuous among the many fortunate events of his life,—occurred at the exact juncture necessary for rescuing him from a tide of superiority in the Carthaginian arms, which seemed in a fair way to overwhelm him completely. Upon what physical conditions the frequent repetition of such a calamity depended, together with the remarkable fact that it was confined to Carthage and her armies,—we know partially in respect to the third of the four cases, but not at all in regard to the others.
The flight of Imilkon with his Carthaginians from Syracuse left Dionysius and the Syracusans in the full swing of triumph. The conquests made by Imilkon were altogether lost, and the Carthaginian dominion in Sicily was now cut down to that restricted space in the western corner of the island, which it had occupied prior to the invasion of Hannibal in 409 B. C. So prodigious a success probably enabled Dionysius to put down the opposition recently manifested among the Syracusans to the continuance of his rule. We are told that he was greatly embarrassed by his mercenaries; who, having been for some time without pay, manifested such angry discontent as to threaten his downfall. Dionysius seized the person of their commander, the Spartan Aristoteles: upon which the soldiers mutined and flocked in arms around his residence, demanding in fierce terms both the liberty of their commander and the payment of their arrears. Of these demands, Dionysius eluded the first by saying that he would send away Aristoteles to Sparta, to be tried and dealt with among his own countrymen: as to the second, he pacified the soldiers by assigning to them, in exchange for their pay, the town and territory of Leontini. Willingly accepting this rich bribe, the most fertile soil of the island, the mercenaries quitted Syracuse to the number of ten thousand, to take up their residence in the newly assigned town; while Dionysius hired new mercenaries in their place. To these (including perhaps the Iberians or Spaniards who had recently passed from the Carthaginian service into his) and to the slaves whom he had liberated, he intrusted the maintenance of his dominion.[2]
These few facts, which are all that we hear, enable us to see that the relations between Dionysius and the mercenaries by whose means he ruled Syracuse, were troubled and difficult to manage. But they do not explain to us the full cause of such discord. We know that a short time before, Dionysius had rid himself of one thousand obnoxious mercenaries by treacherously betraying them to death in a battle with the Carthaginians. Moreover, he would hardly have seized the person of Aristoteles, and sent him away for trial, if the latter had done nothing more than demand pay really due to his soldiers. It seems probable that the discontent of the mercenaries rested upon deeper causes, perhaps connected with that movement in the Syracusan mind against Dionysius, manifested openly in the invective of Theodorus. We should have been glad also to know how Dionysius proposed to pay the new mercenaries, if he had no means of paying the old. The cost of maintaining his standing army, upon whomsoever it fell, must have been burdensome in the extreme. What became of the previous residents and proprietors at Leontini, who must have been dispossessed when this much-coveted site was transferred to the mercenaries? On all these points we are unfortunately left in ignorance.
Dionysius now set forth towards the north of Sicily to reëstablish Messênê; while those other Sicilians, who had been expelled from their abodes by the Carthaginians, got together and returned. In reconstituting Messênê after its demolition by Imilkon, he obtained the means of planting there a population altogether in his interests, suitable to the aggressive designs which he was already contemplating against Rhegium and the other Italian Greeks. He established in it one thousand Lokrians,—four thousand persons from another city the name of which we cannot certainly make out,[3]—and six hundred of the Peloponnesian Messenians. These latter had been expelled by Sparta from Zakynthus and Naupaktus at the close of the Peloponnesian war, and had taken service in Sicily with Dionysius. Even here, the hatred of Sparta followed them. Her remonstrances against his project of establishing them in a city of consideration bearing their own ancient name, obliged him to withdraw them: upon which he planted them on a portion of the Abakene territory on the northern coast. They gave to their new city the name of Tyndaris, admitted many new residents, and conducted their affairs so prudently, as presently to attain a total of five thousand citizens.[4] Neither here, nor at Messênê, do we find any mention made of the reëstablishment of those inhabitants who had fled when Imilkon took Messênê, and who formed nearly all the previous population of the city, for very few are mentioned as having been slain. It seems doubtful whether Dionysius readmitted them, when he reconstituted Messênê. Renewing with care the fortifications of the city, which had been demolished by Imilkon, he placed in it some of his mercenaries as garrison.[5]
Dionysius next undertook several expeditions against the Sikels in the interior of the island, who had joined Imilkon in his recent attack upon Syracuse. He conquered several of their towns, and established alliances with two of their most powerful princes, at Agyrium and Kentoripæ. Enna and Kephalœdium were also betrayed to him, as well as the Carthaginian dependency of Solûs. By these proceedings, which appear to have occupied some time, he acquired powerful ascendency in the central and north-east parts of the island, while his garrison at Messênê; ensured to him the command of the strait between Sicily and Italy.[6]
His acquisition of this important fortified position was well understood to imply ulterior designs against Rhegium and the other Grecian cities in the south of Italy, among whom accordingly a lively alarm prevailed. The numerous exiles whom he had expelled, not merely from Syracuse, but also from Naxus, Katana, and the other conquered towns, having no longer any assured shelter in Sicily, had been forced to cross over into Italy, where they were favorably received both at Kroton and at Rhegium.[7] One of these exiles, Helôris, once the intimate friend of Dionysius, was even appointed general of the forces of Rhegium; forces at that time not only powerful on land, but sustained by a fleet of seventy or eighty triremes.[8] Under his command, a Rhegine force crossed the strait for the purpose partly of besieging Messênê, partly of establishing the Naxian and Katanean exiles at Mylæ on the northern coast of the island, not far from Messênê. Neither scheme succeeded: Helôris was repulsed from Messênê with loss, while the new settlers at Mylæ were speedily expelled. The command of the strait was thus fully maintained to Dionysius; who, on the point of undertaking an aggressive expedition over to Italy, was delayed only by the necessity of capturing the newly established Sikel town on the hill of Taurus—or Tauromenium. The Sikels defended this position, in itself high and strong, with unexpected valor and obstinacy. It was the spot on which the primitive Grecian colonists who first came to Sicily, had originally landed, and from whence, therefore, the successive Hellenic encroachments upon the pre-established Sikel population, had taken their commencement. This fact, well known to both parties, rendered the capture on one side as much a point of honor, as the preservation on the other. Dionysius spent months in the siege, even throughout midwinter, while the snow covered this hill-top. He made reiterated assaults, which were always repulsed. At last, on one moonless winter night, he found means to scramble over some almost inaccessible crags to a portion of the town less defended, and to effect a lodgment in one of the two fortified portions into which it was divided. Having taken the first part, he immediately proceeded to attack the second. But the Sikels, resisting with desperate valor, repulsed him, and compelled the storming party to flee in disorder, amidst the darkness of night, and over the most difficult ground. Six hundred of them were slain on the spot, and scarcely any escaped without throwing away their arms. Even Dionysius himself, being overthrown by the thrust of a spear on his cuirass, was with difficulty picked up and carried off alive; all his arms, except the cuirass, being left behind. He was obliged to raise the siege, and was long in recovering from his wound: the rather as his eyes also had suffered considerably from the snow.[9]
So manifest a reverse, before a town comparatively insignificant, lowered his military reputation, and encouraged his enemies throughout the island. The Agrigentines and others, throwing off their dependence upon him, proclaimed themselves autonomous; banishing those leaders among them who upheld his interest.[10] Many of the Sikels also, elate with the success of their countrymen at Tauromenium, declared openly against him; joining the Carthaginian general Magon, who now, for the first time since the disaster before Syracuse, again exhibited the force of Carthage in the field.
Since the disaster before Syracuse, Magon had remained tranquil in the western or Carthaginian corner of the island, recruiting the strength and courage of his countrymen, and taking unusual pains to conciliate the attachment of the dependent native towns. Reinforced in part by the exiles expelled by Dionysius, he was now in a condition to assume the aggressive, and to espouse the cause of the Sikels after their successful defence of Tauromenium. He even ventured to overrun and ravage the Messenian territory; but Dionysius, being now recovered from his wound, marched against him, defeated him in a battle near Abakæna, and forced him again to retire westward, until fresh troops were sent to him from Carthage.[11]
Without pursuing Magon, Dionysius returned to Syracuse, from whence he presently set forth to execute his projects against Rhegium, with a fleet of one hundred ships of war. So skilfully did he arrange or mask his movements, that he arrived at night at the gates and under the walls of Rhegium, without the least suspicion on the part of the citizens. Applying combustibles to set fire to the gate (as he had once done successfully at the gate of Achradina),[12] he at the same time planted his ladders against the walls, and attempted an escalade. Surprised and in small numbers, the citizens began their defence; but the attack was making progress, had not the general Helôris, instead of trying to extinguish the flames, bethought himself of encouraging them by heaping on dry faggots and other matters. The conflagration became so violent, that even the assailants themselves were kept off until time was given for the citizens to mount the walls in force; and the city was saved from capture by burning a portion of it. Disappointed in his hopes, Dionysius was obliged to content himself with ravaging the neighboring territory; after which, he concluded a truce of one year with the Rhegines, and then returned to Syracuse.[13]
This step was probably determined by news of the movements of Magon, who was in the field anew with a mercenary force reckoned at eighty thousand men—Libyan, Sardinian, and Italian—obtained from Carthage, where hope of Sicilian success was again reviving. Magon directed his march through the Sikel population in the centre of the island, receiving the adhesion of many of their various townships. Agyrium, however, the largest and most important of all, resisted him as an enemy. Agyris, the despot of the place, who had conquered much of the neighboring territory, and had enriched himself by the murder of several opulent proprietors, maintained strict alliance with Dionysius. The latter speedily came to his aid, with a force stated at twenty thousand men, Syracusans and mercenaries. Admitted into the city, and co-operating with Agyris, who furnished abundant supplies, he soon reduced the Carthaginians to great straits. Magon was encamped near the river Chrysas, between Agyrium and Morgantinê; in an enemy’s country, harassed by natives who perfectly knew the ground, and who cut off in detail all his parties sent out to obtain provisions. The Syracusans, indeed, disliking or mistrusting such tardy methods, impatiently demanded leave to make a vigorous attack; and when Dionysius refused, affirming that with a little patience the enemy must be speedily starved out, they left the camp and returned home. Alarmed at their desertion, he forthwith issued a requisition for a large number of slaves to supply their places. But at this very juncture, there arrived a proposition from the Carthaginians to be allowed to make peace and retire; which Dionysius granted, on condition that they should abandon to him the Sikels and their territory—especially Tauromenium. Upon these terms peace was accordingly concluded, and Magon again returned to Carthage.[14]
Relieved from these enemies, Dionysius was enabled to restore those slaves, whom he had levied under the recent requisition, to their masters. Having established his dominion fully among the Sikels, he again marched against Tauromenium, which on this occasion was unable to resist him. The Sikels, who had so valiantly defended it, were driven out, to make room for new inhabitants, chosen from among the mercenaries of Dionysius.[15]
Thus master both of Messênê and Tauromenium, the two most important maritime posts on the Italian side of Sicily, Dionysius prepared to execute his ulterior schemes against the Greeks in the south of Italy. These still powerful, though once far more powerful, cities, were now suffering under a cause of decline common to all the Hellenic colonies on the coast of the continent. The indigenous population of the interior had been reinforced, or enslaved, by more warlike emigrants from behind, who now pressed upon the maritime Grecian cities with encroachment difficult to resist.
It was the Samnites, a branch of the hardy Sabellian race, mountaineers from the central portion of the Apennine range, who had been recently spreading themselves abroad as formidable assailants. About 420 B. C., they had established themselves in Capua and the fertile plains of Campania, expelling or dispossessing the previous Tuscan proprietors. From thence, about 416 B. C., they reduced the neighboring city of Cumæ, the most ancient western colony of the Hellenic race.[16] The neighboring Grecian establishments of Neapolis and Dikæarchia seem also to have come, like Cumæ, under tribute and dominion to the Campanian Samnites, and thus became partially dis-hellenised.[17] These Campanians, of Samnite race, have been frequently mentioned in the two preceding chapters, as employed on mercenary service both in the armies of the Carthaginians, and in those of Dionysius.[18] But the great migration of this warlike race was farther to the south-east, down the line of the Apennines towards the Tarentine Gulf and the Sicilian strait. Under the name of Lucanians, they established a formidable power in these regions, subjugating the Œnotrian population there settled.[19] The Lucanian power seems to have begun and to have gradually increased from about 430 B. C. At its maximum (about 380-360 B. C.), it comprehended most part of the inland territory, and considerable portions of the coast, especially the southern coast,—bounded by an imaginary line drawn from Metapontum on the Tarentine Gulf, across the breadth of Italy to Poseidonia or Pæstum, near the mouth of the river Silaris, on the Tyrrhenian or Lower sea. It was about 356 B. C., that the rural serfs, called Bruttians,[20] rebelled against the Lucanians, and robbed them of the southern part of this territory; establishing an independent dominion in the inland portion of what is now called the Farther Calabria—extending from a boundary line drawn across Italy between Thurii and Läus, down to near the Sicilian strait. About 332 B. C., commenced the occasional intervention of the Epirotic kings from the one side, and the persevering efforts of Rome from the other, which, after long and valiant struggles, left Samnites, Lucanians, Bruttians, all Roman subjects.
At the period which we have now reached, these Lucanians, having conquered the Greek cities of Poseidonia (or Pæstum) and Läus, with much of the territory lying between the Gulfs of Poseidonia and Tarentum, severely harassed the inhabitants of Thurii, and alarmed all the neighboring Greek cities down to Rhegium. So serious was the alarm of these cities, that several of them contracted an intimate defensive alliance, strengthening for the occasion that feeble synodical band, and sense of Italiot communion,[21] the form and trace of which seems to have subsisted without the reality, even under marked enmity between particular cities. The conditions of the newly-contracted alliance were most stringent; not only binding each city to assist at the first summons any other city invaded by the Lucanians, but also pronouncing, that if this obligation were neglected, the generals of the disobedient city should be condemned to death.[22] However, at this time the Italiot Greeks were not less afraid of Dionysius and his aggressive enterprises from the south, than of the Lucanians from the north; and their defensive alliance was intended against both. To Dionysius, on the contrary, the invasion of the Lucanians from landward was a fortunate incident for the success of his own schemes. Their concurrent designs against the same enemies, speedily led to the formation of a distinct alliance between the two.[23] Among the allies of Dionysius, too, we must number the Epizephyrian Lokrians; who not only did not join the Italiot confederacy, but espoused his cause against it with ardor. The enmity of the Lokrians against their neighbors, the Rhegines, was ancient and bitter; exceeded only by that of Dionysius, who never forgave the refusal of the Rhegines to permit him to marry a wife out of their city, and was always grateful to the Lokrians for having granted to him the privilege which their neighbors had refused.
Wishing as yet, if possible, to avoid provoking the other members of the Italiot confederacy, Dionysius still professed to be revenging himself exclusively upon Rhegium; against which he conducted a powerful force from Syracuse. Twenty thousand foot, one thousand horse, and one hundred and twenty ships of war, are mentioned as the total of his armament. Disembarking near Lokri, he marched across the lower part of the peninsula in a westerly direction, ravaged with fire and sword the Rhegian territory, and then encamped near the strait on the northern side of Rhegium. His fleet followed coastwise round Cape Zephyrium to the same point. While he was pressing the siege, the members of the Italiot synod despatched from Kroton a fleet of sixty sail, to assist in the defence. Their ships, having rounded Cape Zephyrium, were nearing Rhegium from the south, when Dionysius himself approached to attack them, with fifty ships detached from his force. Though inferior in number, his fleet was probably superior in respect to size and equipment; so that the Krotoniate captains, not daring to hazard a battle, ran their ships ashore. Dionysius here attacked them, and would have towed off all the ships (without their crews) as prizes, had not the scene of action lain so near to Rhegium, that the whole force of the city could come forth in reinforcement, while his own army was on the opposite side of the town. The numbers and courage of the Rhegines baffled his efforts, rescued the ships, and hauled them all up upon the shore in safety. Obliged to retire without success, Dionysius was farther overtaken by a terrific storm, which exposed his fleet to the utmost danger. Seven of his ships were driven ashore; their crews, fifteen hundred in number, being either drowned, or falling into the hands of the Rhegines. The rest, after great danger and difficulty, either rejoined the main fleet or got into the harbor of Messênê; where Dionysius himself in his quinquereme also found refuge, but only at midnight, and after imminent risk for several hours. Disheartened by this misfortune as well as by the approach of winter, he withdrew his forces for the present, and returned to Syracuse.[24]
A part of his fleet, however, under Leptines, was despatched northward along the south-western coast of Italy to the Gulf of Elea, to coöperate with the Lucanians; who from that coast and from inland were invading the inhabitants of Thurii on the Tarentine Gulf. Thurii was the successor, though with far inferior power, of the ancient Sybaris; whose dominion had once stretched across from sea to sea, comprehending the town of Läus, now a Lucanian possession.[25] Immediately on the appearance of the Lucanians, the Thurians had despatched an urgent message to their allies, who were making all haste to arrive, pursuant to covenant. But before such junction could possibly take place, the Thurians, confiding in their own native force of fourteen thousand foot, and one thousand horse, marched against the enemy single-handed. The Lucanian invaders retreated, pursued by the Thurians, who followed them even into that mountainous region of the Appenines which stretches between the two seas, and which presents the most formidable danger and difficulty for all military operations.[26] They assailed successfully a fortified post or village of the Lucanians, which fell into their hands with a rich plunder. By such partial advantage they were so elated, that they ventured to cross over all the mountain passes even to the neighborhood of the southern sea, with the intention of attacking the flourishing town of Läus[27]—once the dependency of their Sybaritan predecessors. But the Lucanians, having allured them into these impracticable paths, closed upon them behind with greatly increased numbers, forbade all retreat, and shut them up in a plain surrounded with high and precipitous cliffs. Attacked in this plain by numbers double their own, the unfortunate Thurians underwent one of the most bloody defeats recorded in Grecian history. Out of their fourteen thousand men, ten thousand were slain, under merciless order from the Lucanians to give no quarter. The remainder contrived to flee to a hill near the sea-shore, from whence they saw a fleet of ships of war coasting along at no great distance. Distracted with terror, they were led to fancy, or to hope, that these were the ships expected from Rhegium to their aid; though the Rhegines would naturally send their ships, when demanded, to Thurii, on the Tarentine Gulf, not to the Lower sea near Läus. Under this impression, one thousand of them swam off from the shore to seek protection on shipboard. But they found themselves, unfortunately, on board the fleet of Leptines, brother and admiral of Dionysius, come for the express purpose of aiding the Lucanians. With a generosity not less unexpected than honorable, this officer saved their lives, and also, as it would appear, the lives of all the other defenceless survivors; persuading or constraining the Lucanians to release them, on receiving one mina of silver per man.[28]
This act of Hellenic sympathy restored three or four thousand citizens on ransom to Thurii, instead of leaving them to be massacred or sold by the barbarous Lucanians, and procured the warmest esteem for Leptines personally among the Thurians and other Italiot Greeks. But it incurred the strong displeasure of Dionysius, who now proclaimed openly his project of subjugating these Greeks, and was anxious to encourage the Lucanians as indispensable allies. Accordingly he dismissed Leptines, and named as admiral his other brother Thearides. He then proceeded to conduct a fresh expedition; no longer intended against Rhegium alone, but against all the Italiot Greeks. He departed from Syracuse with a powerful force—twenty thousand foot and three thousand horse, with which, he marched by land in five days to Messênê; his fleet under Thearides accompanying him—forty ships of war, and three hundred transports with provisions. Having first successfully surprised and captured near the Lipari isles a Rhegian squadron of ten ships, the crews of which he constituted prisoners at Messênê, he transported his army across the strait into Italy, and laid siege to Kaulonia—on the eastern coast of the peninsula, and conterminous with the northern border of his allies the Lokrians. He attacked this place vigorously, with the best siege machines which his arsenal furnished.
The Italiot Greeks, on the other hand, mustered their united force to relieve it. Their chief centre of action was Kroton where most of the Syracusan exiles, the most forward of all champions in the cause, were now assembled. One of these exiles, Helôris (who had before been named general by the Rhegines), was intrusted with the command of the collective army; an arrangement neutralizing all local jealousies. Under the cordial sentiment prevailing, an army was mustered at Kroton, estimated at twenty-five thousand foot and two thousand horse; by what cities furnished, or in what proportion, we are unable to say.[29] At the head of these troops, Helôris marched southward from Kroton to the river Elleporus not far from Kaulonia; where Dionysius, raising the siege, met him.[30] He was about four miles and a half from the Krotoniate army, when he learnt from his scouts that Helôris with a chosen regiment of five hundred men (perhaps Syracusan exiles like himself), was considerably in advance of the main body. Moving rapidly forward in the night, Dionysius surprised this advanced guard at break of day, completely isolated from the rest. Helôris, while he despatched instant messages to accelerate the coming up of the main body, defended himself with his small band against overwhelming superiority of numbers. But the odds were too great. After an heroic resistance, he was slain, and his companions nearly all cut to pieces, before the main body, though they came up at full speed, could arrive.
The hurried pace of the Italiot army, however, though it did not suffice to save the general, was of fatal efficacy in deranging their own soldierlike army. Confused and disheartened by finding that Helôris was slain, which left them without a general to direct the battle or restore order, the Italiots fought for some time against Dionysius, but were at length defeated with severe loss. They effected their retreat from the field of battle to a neighboring eminence, very difficult to attack, yet destitute of water and provisions. Here Dionysius blocked them up, without attempting an attack, but keeping the strictest guard round the hill during the whole remaining day and the ensuing night. The heat of the next day, with total want of water, so subdued their courage, that they sent to Dionysius a herald with propositions, entreating to be allowed to depart on a stipulated ransom. But the terms were peremptorily refused; they were ordered to lay down their arms, and surrender at discretion. Against this terrible requisition they stood out yet awhile, until the increasing pressure of physical exhaustion and suffering drove them to surrender, about the eighth hour of the day.[31]
More than ten thousand disarmed Greeks descended from the hill and defiled before Dionysius, who numbered the companies as they passed with a stick. As his savage temper was well known, they expected nothing short of the harshest sentence. So much the greater was their astonishment and delight, when they found themselves treated not merely with lenity, but with generosity.[32] Dionysius released them all without even exacting a ransom; and concluded a treaty with most of the cities to which they belonged, leaving their autonomy undisturbed. He received the warmest thanks, accompanied by votes of golden wreaths, from the prisoners as well as from the cities; while among the general public of Greece, the act was hailed as forming the prominent glory of his political life.[33] Such admiration was well deserved, looking to the laws of war then prevalent.
With the Krotoniates and other Italiot Greeks (except Rhegium and Lokri) Dionysius had had no marked previous relations and therefore had not contracted any strong personal sentiment either of antipathy or favor. With Rhegium and Lokri, the case was different. To the Lokrians he was strongly attached: against the Rhegines his animosity was bitter and implacable, manifesting itself in a more conspicuous manner by contrast with his recent dismissal of the Krotoniate prisoners; a proceeding which had been probably dictated, in great part, by his anxiety to have his hands free for the attack of isolated Rhegium. After having finished the arrangements consequent upon his victory, he marched against that city, and prepared to besiege it. The citizens, feeling themselves without hope of succor, and intimidated by the disaster of their Italiot allies, sent out heralds to beg for moderate terms, and imploring him to abstain from extreme or unmeasured rigor.[34] For a moment, Dionysius seemed to comply with their request. He granted them peace, on condition that they should surrender all their ships of war, seventy in number—that they should pay to him three hundred talents in money—and that they should place in his hands one hundred hostages. All these demands were strictly complied with; upon which Dionysius withdrew his army, and agreed to spare the city.[35]
His next proceeding was, to attack Kaulonia and Hipponium; two cities which seem between them to have occupied the whole breadth of the Calabrian peninsula, immediately north of Rhegium and Lokri; Kaulonia on the eastern coast, Hipponium on or near the western. Both these cities he besieged, took, and destroyed: probably neither of them, in the hopeless circumstances of the case, made any strenuous resistance. He then caused the inhabitants of both of them, such at least as did not make their escape, to be transported to Syracuse, where he domiciliated them as citizens, allowing them five years of exemption from taxes.[36] To be a citizen of Syracuse meant at this moment, to be a subject of his despotism, and nothing more: how he made room for these new citizens, or furnished them with lands and houses, we are unfortunately not informed. But the territory of both these towns, evacuated by its free inhabitants (though probably not by its slaves, or serfs), was handed over to the Lokrians and annexed to their city. That favored city, which had accepted his offer of marriage, was thus immensely enriched both in lands and in collective property. Here again it would have been interesting to hear what measures were taken to appropriate or distribute the new lands; but our informant is silent.
Dionysius had thus accumulated into Syracuse, not only all Sicily[37] (to use the language of Plato), but even no inconsiderable portion of Italy. Such wholesale changes of domicile and property must probably have occupied some months; during which time the army of Dionysius seems never to have quitted the Calabrian peninsula, though he himself may probably have gone for a time in person to Syracuse. It was soon seen that the depopulation of Hipponium and Kaulonia was intended only as a prelude to the ruin of Rhegium. Upon this Dionysius had resolved. The recent covenant into which he had entered with the Rhegines, was only a fraudulent device for the purpose of entrapping them into a surrender of their navy, in order that he might afterwards attack them at greater advantage. Marching his army to the Italian shore of the strait, near Rhegium, he affected to busy himself in preparations for crossing to Sicily. In the mean time, he sent a friendly message to the Rhegines, requesting them to supply him for a short time with provisions, under assurance that what they furnished should speedily be replaced from Syracuse. It was his purpose, if they refused, to resent it as an insult, and attack them; if they consented, to consume their provisions, without performing his engagement to replace the quantity consumed; and then to make his attack after all, when their means of holding out had been diminished. At first the Rhegines complied willingly, furnishing abundant supplies. But the consumption continued, and the departure of the army was deferred—first on pretence of the illness of Dionysius, next on other grounds—so that they at length detected the trick, and declined to furnish any more. Dionysius now threw off the mask, gave back to them their hundred hostages, and laid siege to the town in form.[38]
Regretting too late that they had suffered themselves to be defrauded of their means of defence, the Rhegines nevertheless prepared to hold out with all the energy of despair. Phyton was chosen commander, the whole population was armed, and all the line of wall carefully watched. Dionysius made vigorous assaults, employing all the resources of his battering machinery to effect a breach. But he was repelled at all points obstinately, and with much loss on both sides: several of his machines were also burnt or destroyed by opportune sallies of the besieged. In one of the assaults, Dionysius himself was seriously wounded by a spear thrust in the groin, from which he was long in recovering. He was at length obliged to convert the siege into a blockade, and to rely upon famine alone for subduing these valiant citizens. For eleven months did the Rhegines hold out, against the pressure of want gradually increasing, and at last terminating in the agony and destruction of famine. We are told that a medimnus of wheat came to be sold for the enormous price of five minæ; at the rate of about £14 sterling per bushel: every horse and every beast of burthen was consumed: at length hides were boiled and eaten, and even the grass on parts of the wall. Many perished from absolute hunger, while the survivors lost all strength and energy. In this intolerable condition, they were constrained, at the end of near eleven months, to surrender at discretion.
So numerous were these victims of famine, that Dionysius, on entering Rhegium, found heaps of unburied corpses, besides six thousand citizens in the last stage of emaciation. All these captives were sent to Syracuse, where those who could provide a mina (about £3 17s.) were allowed to ransom themselves, while the rest were sold as slaves. After such a period of suffering, the number of those who retained the means of ransom was probably very small. But the Rhegine general, Phyton, was detained with all his kindred, and reserved for a different fate. First, his son was drowned, by order of Dionysius: next, Phyton himself was chained to one of the loftiest siege-machines, as a spectacle to the whole army. While he was thus exhibited to scorn, a messenger was sent to apprise him, that Dionysius had just caused his son to be drowned. “He is more fortunate than his father by one day,” was the reply of Phyton. After a certain time, the sufferer was taken down from his pillory, and led round the city, with attendants scourging and insulting him at every step; while a herald proclaimed aloud, “Behold the man who persuaded the Rhegines to war, thus signally punished by Dionysius!” Phyton, enduring all these torments with heroic courage and dignified silence, was provoked to exclaim in reply to the herald, that the punishment was inflicted because he had refused to betray the city to Dionysius, who would himself soon be overtaken by the divine vengeance. At length the prolonged outrages, combined with the noble demeanor and high reputation of the victim, excited compassion even among the soldiers of Dionysius himself. Their murmurs became so pronounced, that he began to apprehend an open mutiny for the purpose of rescuing Phyton. Under this fear he gave orders that the torments should be discontinued, and that Phyton with his entire kindred should be drowned.[39]
The prophetic persuasion under which this unhappy man perished, that divine vengeance would soon overtake his destroyer, was noway borne out by the subsequent reality. The power and prosperity of Dionysius underwent abatement by his war with the Carthaginians in 383 B. C., yet remained very considerable even to his dying day. And the misfortunes which fell thickly upon his son the younger Dionysius, more than thirty years afterwards, though they doubtless received a religious interpretation from contemporary critics, were probably ascribed to acts more recent than the barbarities inflicted on Phyton. But these barbarities, if not avenged, were at least laid to heart with profound sympathy by the contemporary world, and even commemorated with tenderness and pathos by poets. While Dionysius was composing tragedies (of which more presently) in hopes of applause in Greece, he was himself furnishing real matter of history, not less tragical than the sufferings of those legendary heroes and heroines to which he (in common with other poets) resorted for a subject. Among the many acts of cruelty, more or less aggravated, which it is the melancholy duty of an historian of Greece to recount, there are few so revolting as the death of the Rhegine general; who was not a subject, nor a conspirator, nor a rebel, but an enemy in open warfare—of whom the worst that even Dionysius himself could say, was, that he had persuaded his countrymen into the war. And even this could not be said truly; since the antipathy of the Rhegines towards Dionysius was of old standing, traceable to his enslavement of Naxos and Katana, if not to causes yet earlier—though the statement of Phyton may very probably be true, that Dionysius had tried to bribe him to betray Rhegium (as the generals of Naxos and Katana had been bribed to betray their respective cities), and was incensed beyond measure at finding the proposition repelled. The Hellenic war-practice was in itself sufficiently cruel. Both Athenians and Lacedæmonians put to death prisoners of war by wholesale, after the capture of Melos, after the battle of Ægospotami, and elsewhere. But to make death worse than death by a deliberate and protracted tissue of tortures and indignities, is not Hellenic; it is Carthaginian and Asiatic. Dionysius had shown himself better than a Greek when he released without ransom the Krotoniate prisoners captured at the battle of Kaulonia; but he became far worse than a Greek, and worse even than his own mercenaries, when he heaped aggravated suffering, beyond the simple death-warrant, on the heads of Phyton and his kindred.
Dionysius caused the city of Rhegium to be destroyed[40] or dismantled. Probably he made over the lands to Lokri, like those of Kaulonia and Hipponium. The free Rhegine citizens had all been transported to Syracuse for sale; and those who were fortunate enough to save their liberty by providing the stipulated ransom, would not be allowed to come back to their native soil. If Dionysius was so zealous in enriching the Lokrians, as to transfer to them two other neighboring town-domains, against the inhabitants of which he had no peculiar hatred—much more would he be disposed to make the like transfer of the Rhegine territory, whereby he would gratify at once his antipathy to the one state and his partiality to the other. It is true that Rhegium did not permanently continue incorporated with Lokri; but neither did Kaulonia nor Hipponium. The maintenance of all the three transfers depended on the ascendency of Dionysius and his dynasty; but for the time immediately succeeding the capture of Rhegium, the Lokrians became masters of the Rhegine territory as well as of the two other townships, and thus possessed all the Calabrian peninsula south of the Gulf of Squillace. To the Italiot Greeks generally, these victories of Dionysius were fatally ruinous, because the political union formed among them, for the purpose of resisting the pressure of the Lucanians from the interior, was overthrown, leaving each city to its own weakness and isolation.[41]
The year 387, in which Rhegium surrendered, was also distinguished for two other memorable events; the general peace in Central Greece under the dictation of Persia and Sparta, commonly called the peace of Antalkidas; and the capture of Rome by the Gauls.[42]
The two great ascendant powers in the Grecian world were now, Sparta in Peloponnesus, and Dionysius in Sicily; each respectively fortified by alliance with the other. I have already in a former chapter[43] described the position of Sparta after the peace of Antalkidas; how greatly she gained by making herself the champion of that Persian rescript—and how she purchased, by surrendering the Asiatic Greeks to Artaxerxes, an empire on land equal to that which she had enjoyed before the defeat of Knidus, though without recovering the maritime empire fortified by that defeat.
To this great imperial state, Dionysius in the west formed a suitable counterpart. His recent victories in Southern Italy had already raised his power to a magnitude transcending all the far-famed recollections of Gelon; but he now still farther extended it by sending an expedition against Kroton. This city, the largest in Magna Græcia, fell under his power; and he succeeded in capturing, by surprise or bribery, even its strong citadel; on a rock overhanging the sea.[44] He seems also to have advanced yet farther with his fleet to attack Thurii; which city owed its preservation solely to the violence of the north winds. He plundered the temple of Hêrê near Cape Lakinium, in the domain of Kroton. Among the ornaments of this temple was one of pre-eminent beauty and celebrity, which at the periodical festivals was exhibited to admiring spectators: a robe wrought with the greatest skill, and decorated in the most costly manner, the votive offering of a Sybarite named Alkimenes. Dionysius sold this robe to the Carthaginians. It long remained as one of the permanent religious ornaments of their city, being probably dedicated to the honor of those Hellenic Deities recently introduced for worship; whom (as I have before stated) the Carthaginians were about this time peculiarly anxious to propitiate, in hopes of averting or alleviating the frightful pestilences wherewith they had been so often smitten. They purchased the robe from Dionysius at the prodigious price of one hundred and twenty talents, or about £27,600 sterling.[45] Incredible as this sum may appear, we must recollect that the honor done to the new gods would be mainly estimated according to the magnitude of the sum laid out. As the Carthaginians would probably think no price too great to transfer an unrivalled vestment from the wardrobe of the Lakinian Hêrê to the newly-established temple and worship of Dêmêtêr and Persephonê in their city—so we may be sure that the loss of such an ornament, and the spoliation of the holy place, would deeply humiliate the Krotoniates, and with them the crowd of Italiot Greeks who frequented the Lakinian festivals.
Thus master of the important city of Kroton, with a citadel near the sea capable of being held by a separate garrison, Dionysius divested the inhabitants of their southern possession of Skylletium, which he made over to aggrandize yet farther the town of Lokri.[46] Whether he pushed his conquests farther along the Tarentine Gulf so as to acquire the like hold on Thurii or Metapontum, we cannot say. But both of them must have been overawed by the rapid extension and near approach of his power; especially Thurii, not yet recovered from her disastrous defeat by the Lucanians.
Profiting by his maritime command of the Gulf, Dionysius was enabled to enlarge his ambitious views even to distant ultramarine enterprises. To escape from his long arm, Syracusan exiles were obliged to flee to a greater distance, and one of their divisions either founded, or was admitted into, the city of Ancona, high up the Adriatic Gulf.[47] On the other side of that Gulf, in vicinity and alliance with the Illyrian tribes, Dionysius on his part sent a fleet, and established more than one settlement. To these schemes he was prompted by a dispossessed prince of the Epirotic Molossians, named Alketas, who, residing at Syracuse as an exile, had gained his confidence. He founded the town of Lissus (now Alessio) on the Illyrian coast, considerably north of Epidamnus; and he assisted the Parians in their plantation of two Grecian settlements, in sites still farther northward up the Adriatic Gulf—the islands of Issa and Pharos. His admiral at Lissus defeated the neighboring Illyrian coast-boats, which harassed these newly-settled Parians; but with the Illyrian tribes near to Lissus, he maintained an intimate alliance, and even furnished a large number of them with Grecian panoplies. It is affirmed to have been the purpose of Dionysius and Alketas to employ these warlike barbarians, first in invading Epirus and restoring Alketas to his Molossian principality; next in pillaging the wealthy temple of Delphi—a scheme far-reaching, yet not impracticable, and capable of being seconded by a Syracusan fleet, if circumstances favored its execution. The invasion of Epirus was accomplished, and the Molossians were defeated in a bloody battle, wherein fifteen thousand of them are said to have been slain. But the ulterior projects against Delphi were arrested by the intervention of Sparta, who sent a force to the spot and prevented all further march southward.[48] Alketas however seems to have remained prince of a portion of Epirus, in the territory nearly opposite to Korkyra; where we have already recognized him, in a former chapter, as having become the dependent of Jason of Pheræ in Thessaly.
Another enterprise undertaken by Dionysius about this time was a maritime expedition along the coasts of Latium, Etruria, and Corsica; partly under color of repressing the piracies committed from their maritime cities; but partly also, for the purpose of pillaging the rich and holy temple of Leukothea, at Agylla or its seaport Pyrgi. In this he succeeded, stripping it of money and precious ornaments to the amount of one thousand talents. The Agyllæans came forth to defend their temple, but were completely worsted, and lost so much both in plunder and in prisoners, that Dionysius, after returning to Syracuse and selling the prisoners, obtained an additional profit of five hundred talents.[49]
Such was the military celebrity now attained by Dionysius,[50] that the Gauls from Northern Italy, who had recently sacked Rome, sent to proffer their alliance and aid. He accepted the proposition; from whence perhaps the Gallic mercenaries whom we afterwards find in his service as mercenaries, may take their date. His long arms now reached from Lissus on one side to Agylla on the other. Master of most of Sicily and much of Southern Italy, as well as of the most powerful standing army in Greece—the unscrupulous plunderer of the holiest temples everywhere[51]—he inspired much terror and dislike throughout Central Greece. He was the more vulnerable to this sentiment, as he was not only a triumphant prince, but also a tragic poet; competitor, as such, for that applause and admiration which no force can extort. Since none of his tragedies have been preserved, we can form no judgment of our own respecting them. Yet when we learn that he had stood second or third, and that one of his compositions gained even the first prize at the Lenæan festival at Athens,[52] in 368-367 B. C.—the favorable judgment of an Athenian audience affords good reason for presuming that his poetical talents were considerable.
During the years immediately succeeding 387 B. C., however, Dionysius the poet was not likely to receive an impartial hearing anywhere. For while on the one hand his own circle would applaud every word—on the other hand, a large proportion of independent Greeks would be biassed against what they heard by their fear and hatred of the author. If we believed the anecdotes recounted by Diodorus, we should conclude not merely that the tragedies were contemptible compositions, but that the irritability of Dionysius in regard to criticism was exaggerated even to silly weakness. The dithyrambic poet Philoxenus, a resident or visitor at Syracuse, after hearing one of these tragedies privately recited, was asked his opinion. He gave an unfavorable opinion, for which he was sent to prison:[53] on the next day the intercession of friends procured his release, and he contrived afterwards, by delicate wit and double-meaning phrases, to express an inoffensive sentiment without openly compromising truth. At the Olympic festival of 388 B. C., Dionysius had sent some of his compositions to Olympia, together with the best actors and chorists to recite them. But so contemptible were the poems (we are told), that in spite of every advantage of recitation, they were disgracefully hissed and ridiculed; moreover the actors in coming back to Syracuse were shipwrecked, and the crew of the ship ascribed all the suffering of their voyage to the badness of the poems entrusted to them. The flatterers of Dionysius, however (it is said), still continued to extol his genius, and to assure him that his ultimate success as a poet, though for a time interrupted by envy, was infallible; which Dionysius believed, and continued to compose tragedies without being disheartened.[54]
Amidst such malicious jests, circulated by witty men at the expense of the princely poet, we may trace some important matter of fact. Perhaps in the year 388 B. C., but certainly in the year 384 B. C. (both of them Olympic years), Dionysius sent tragedies to be recited, and chariots to run, before the crowd assembled in festival at Olympia. The year 387 B. C. was a memorable year both in Central Greece and in Sicily. In the former, it was signalized by the momentous peace of Antalkidas, which terminated a general war of eight years’ standing: in the latter, it marked the close of the Italian campaign of Dionysius, with the defeat and humiliation of Kroton and the other Italiot Greeks, and subversion of three Grecian cities,—Hipponium, Kaulonia, and Rhegium—the fate of the Rhegines having been characterized by incidents most pathetic and impressive. The first Olympic festival which occurred after 387 B. C. was accordingly a distinguished epoch. The two festivals immediately preceding (those of 392 B. C. and 388 B. C.) having been celebrated in the midst of a general war, had not been visited by a large proportion of the Hellenic body; so that the next ensuing festival, the 99th Olympiad in 384 B. C., was stamped with a peculiar character (like the 90th Olympiad[55] in 420 B. C.) as bringing together in religious fraternity those who had long been separated.[56] To every ambitious Greek (as to Alkibiades in 420 B. C.) it was an object of unusual ambition to make individual figure at such a festival. To Dionysius, the temptation was peculiarly seductive, since he was triumphant over all neighboring enemies—at the pinnacle of his power—and disengaged from all war requiring his own personal command. Accordingly he sent thither his Theôre, or solemn legation for sacrifice, decked in the richest garments, furnished with abundant gold and silver plate, and provided with splendid tents to serve for their lodging on the sacred ground of Olympia. He farther sent several chariots-and-four to contend in the regular chariot races: and lastly, he also sent reciters and chorists, skilful as well as highly trained, to exhibit his own poetical compositions before such as were willing to hear them. We must remember that poetical recitation was not included in the formal programme of the festival.
All this prodigious outfit, under the superintendence of Thearides, brother of Dionysius, was exhibited with dazzling effect before the Olympic crowd. No name stood so prominently and ostentatiously before them as that of the despot of Syracuse. Every man, even from the most distant regions of Greece, was stimulated to inquire into his past exploits and character. There were probably many persons present, peculiarly forward in answering such inquiries—the numerous sufferers, from Italian and Sicilian Greece, whom his conquests had thrown into exile; and their answers would be of a nature to raise the strongest antipathy against Dionysius. Besides the numerous depopulations and mutations of inhabitants which he had occasioned in Sicily, we have already seen that he had, within the last three years, extinguished three free Grecian communities—Rhegium, Kaulonia, Hipponium; transporting all the inhabitants of the two latter to Syracuse. In the case of Kaulonia, an accidental circumstance occurred to impress its recent extinction vividly upon the spectators. The runner who gained the great prize in the stadium, in 384 B. C., was Dikon, a native of Kaulonia. He was a man preëminently swift of foot, celebrated as having gained previous victories in the stadium, and always proclaimed (pursuant to custom) along with the title of his native city—“Dikon the Kauloniate.” To hear this well-known runner now proclaimed as “Dikon the Syracusan,”[57] gave painful publicity to the fact, that the free community of Kaulonia no longer existed,—and to the absorptions of Grecian freedom effected by Dionysius.
In following the history of affairs in Central Greece, I have already dwelt upon the strong sentiment excited among Grecian patriots by the peace of Antalkidas, wherein Sparta made herself the ostentatious champion and enforcer of a Persian rescript, purchased by surrendering the Asiatic Greeks to the Great King. It was natural that this emotion should manifest itself at the next ensuing Olympic festival in 384 B. C., wherein not only Spartans, Athenians, Thebans, and Corinthians, but also Asiatic and Sicilian Greeks, were reunited after a long separation. The emotion found an eloquent spokesman in the orator Lysias. Descended from Syracusan ancestors, and once a citizen of Thurii,[58] Lysias had peculiar grounds for sympathy with the Sicilian and Italian Greeks. He delivered a public harangue upon the actual state of political affairs, in which he dwelt upon the mournful present and upon the serious dangers of the future. “The Grecian world (he said) is burning away at both extremities. Our eastern brethren have passed into slavery under the Great King, our western under the despotism of Dionysius.[59] These two are the great potentates, both in naval force and in money, the real instruments of dominion:[60] if both of them combine, they will extinguish what remains of freedom in Greece. They have been allowed to consummate all this ruin unopposed, because of the past dissensions among the leading Grecian cities; but it is now high time that these cities should unite cordially to oppose farther ruin. How can Sparta, our legitimate president, sit still while the Hellenic world is on fire and consuming? The misfortunes of our ruined brethren ought to be to us as our own. Let us not lie idle, waiting until Artaxerxes and Dionysius attack us with their united force: let us check their insolence at once, while it is yet in our power.”[61]
Unfortunately we possess but a scanty fragment of this emphatic harangue (a panegyrical harangue, in the ancient sense of the word) delivered at Olympia by Lysias. But we see the alarming picture of the time which he labored to impress: Hellas already enslaved, both in the east and in the west, by the two greatest potentates of the age,[62] Artaxerxes and Dionysius—and now threatened in her centre by their combined efforts. To feel the full probability of so gloomy an anticipation, we must recollect that only in the preceding year Dionysius, already master of Sicily and of a considerable fraction of Italian Greece, had stretched his naval force across to Illyria, armed a host of Illyrian barbarians, and sent them southward under Alketas against the Molossians, with the view of ultimately proceeding farther and pillaging the Delphian temple. The Lacedæmonians had been obliged to send a force to arrest their progress.[63] No wonder then that Lysias should depict the despot of Syracuse as meditating ulterior projects against Central Greece; and as an object not only of hatred for what he had done, but of terror for what he was about to do, in conjunction with the other great enemy from the east.[64]
Of these two enemies, one (the Persian King) was out of reach. But the second—Dionysius—though not present in person, stood forth by his envoys and appurtenances conspicuous even to ostentation, beyond any man on the ground. His Theôry or solemn legation outshone every other by the splendor of its tents and decorations: his chariots to run in the races were magnificent: his horses were of rare excellence, bred from the Venetian stock, imported out of the innermost depths of the Adriatic Gulf:[65] his poems, recited by the best artists in Greece, solicited applause—by excellent delivery and fine choric equipments, if not by superior intrinsic merit. Now the antipathy against Dionysius was not only aggravated by all this display, contrasted with the wretchedness of impoverished exiles whom he had dispossessed—but was also furnished with something to strike at and vent itself upon. Of such opportunity for present action against a visible object, Lysias did not fail to avail himself. While he vehemently preached a crusade to dethrone Dionysius and liberate Sicily, he at the same time pointed to the gold and purple tent before them, rich and proud above all its fellows, which lodged the brother of the despot with his Syracusan legation. He exhorted his hearers to put forth at once an avenging hand, in partial retribution for the sufferings of free Greece, by plundering the tent which insulted them by its showy decorations. He adjured them to interfere and prevent the envoys of this impious despot from sacrificing or entering their chariots in the lists, or taking any part in the holy Pan-hellenic festival.[66]
We cannot doubt that a large proportion of the spectators on the plain of Olympia felt with greater or less intensity the generous Pan-hellenic patriotism and indignation to which Lysias gave utterance. To what extent his hearers acted upon the unbecoming violence of his practical recommendations—how far they actually laid hands on the tents, or tried to hinder the Syracusans from sacrificing, or impeded the bringing out of their chariots for the race—we are unable to say. We are told that some ventured to plunder the tents:[67] how much was effected we do not hear. It is certain that the superintending Eleian authorities would interfere most strenuously to check any such attempt at desecrating the festival, and to protect the Syracusan envoys in their tents, their regular sacrifice, and their chariot-running. And it is farther certain, as far as our account goes, that the Syracusan chariots actually did run on the lists; because they were, though by various accidents, disgracefully unsuccessful, or overturned and broken in pieces.[68]
To any one however who reflects on the Olympic festival, with all its solemnity and its competition for honors of various kinds, it will appear that the mere manifestation of so violent an antipathy, even though restrained from breaking out into act, would be sufficiently galling to the Syracusan envoys. But the case would be far worse, when the poems of Dionysius came to be recited. These were volunteer manifestations, delivered (like the harangue of Lysias) before such persons as chose to come and hear; not comprised in the regular solemnity, nor therefore under any peculiar protection by the Eleian authorities. Dionysius stood forward of his own accord to put himself upon his trial as a poet before the auditors. Here therefore the antipathy against the despot might be manifested by the most unreserved explosions. And when we are told that the badness of the poems[69] caused them to be received with opprobrious ridicule, in spite of the excellence of the recitation, it is easy to see that the hatred intended for the person of Dionysius was discharged upon his verses. Of course the hissers and hooters would make it clearly understood what they really meant, and would indulge in the full license of heaping curses upon his name and acts. Neither the best reciters of Greece, nor the best poems even of Sophokles or Pindar, could have any chance against such predetermined antipathy. And the whole scene would end in the keenest disappointment and humiliation, inflicted upon the Syracusan envoys as well as upon the actors; being the only channel through which the retributive chastisement of Hellas could be made to reach the author.
Though not present in person at Olympia, the despot felt the chastisement in his inmost soul. The mere narrative of what had passed plunged him into an agony of sorrow, which for some time seemed to grow worse by brooding on the scene, and at length drove him nearly mad. He was smitten with intolerable consciousness of the profound hatred borne towards him, even throughout a large portion of the distant and independent Hellenic world. He fancied that this hatred was shared by all around him, and suspected every one as plotting against his life. To such an excess of cruelty did this morbid excitement carry him, that he seized several of his best friends, under false accusations, or surmises, and caused them to be slain.[70] Even his brother Leptinês, and his ancient partisan Philistus, men who had devoted their lives first to his exaltation, and afterwards to his service, did not escape. Having given umbrage to him by an intermarriage between their families made without his privity, both were banished from Syracuse, and retired to Thurii in Italy, where they received that shelter and welcome which Leptinês had peculiarly merited by his conduct in the Lucanian war. The exile of Leptinês did not last longer than (apparently) about a year, after which Dionysius relented, recalled him, and gave him his daughter in marriage. But Philistus remained in banishment more than sixteen years; not returning to Syracuse until after the death of Dionysius the elder, and the accession of Dionysius the younger.[71]
Such was the memorable scene at the Olympic festival of 384 B. C., together with its effect upon the mind of Dionysius. Diodorus, while noticing all the facts, has cast an air of ridicule over them by recognizing nothing except the vexation of Dionysius, at the ill success of his poem, as the cause of his mental suffering; and by referring to the years 388 B. C. and 386 B. C., that which properly belongs to 384 B. C.[72] Now it is improbable, in the first place, that the poem of Dionysius,—himself a man of ability and having every opportunity of profiting by good critics whom he had purposely assembled around him[73]—should have been so ridiculously bad as to disgust an impartial audience: next, it is still more improbable that a simple poetical failure, though doubtless mortifying to him, should work with such fearful effect as to plunge him into anguish and madness. To unnerve thus violently a person like Dionysius—deeply stained with the great crimes of unscrupulous ambition, but remarkably exempt from infirmities—some more powerful cause is required; and that cause stands out conspicuously, when we conceive the full circumstances of the Olympic festival of 384 B. C. He had accumulated for this occasion all the means of showing himself off, like Krœsus in his interview with Solon, as the most prosperous and powerful man in the Hellenic world;[74] means beyond the reach of any contemporary, and surpassing even Hiero or Thero of former days, whose praises in the odes of Pindar he probably had in his mind. He counted, probably with good reason, that his splendid legation, chariots, and outfit of acting and recitation for the poems, would surpass everything else seen on the holy plain; and he fully expected such reward as the public were always glad to bestow on rich men who exhausted their purses in the recognized vein of Hellenic pious ostentation. In this high wrought state of expectation, what does Dionysius hear, by his messengers returning from the festival? That their mission had proved a total failure, and even worse than a failure; that the display had called forth none of the usual admiration, not because there were rivals on the ground equal or superior, but simply because it came from him; that its very magnificence had operated to render the explosion of antipathy against him louder and more violent; that his tents in the sacred ground had been actually assailed, and that access to sacrifice, as well as to the matches, had been secured to him only by the interposition of authority. We learn indeed that his chariots failed in the field by unlucky accidents; but in the existing temper of the crowd, these very accidents would be seized as occasions for derisory cheering against him. To this we must add explosions of hatred, yet more furious, elicited by his poems, putting the reciters to utter shame. At the moment when Dionysius expected to hear the account of an unparalleled triumph, he is thus informed, not merely of disappointment, but of insults to himself, direct and personal, the most poignant ever offered by Greeks to a Greek, amidst the holiest and most frequented ceremony of the Hellenic world.[75] Never in any other case do we read of public antipathy, against an individual, being carried to the pitch of desecrating by violence the majesty of the Olympic festival.
Here then were the real and sufficient causes—not the mere ill-success of his poem—which penetrated the soul of Dionysius, driving him into anguish and temporary madness. Though he had silenced the Vox Populi at Syracuse, not all his mercenaries, ships, and forts in Ortygia, could save him from feeling its force, when thus emphatically poured forth against him by the free-spoken crowd at Olympia.
It was apparently shortly after the peace of 387 B. C., that Dionysius received at Syracuse the visit of the philosopher Plato.[76] The latter—having come to Sicily on a voyage of inquiry and curiosity, especially to see Mount Ætna—was introduced by his friends, the philosophers of Tarentum, to Dion, then a young man, resident at Syracuse, and brother of Aristomachê, the wife of Dionysius. Of Plato and Dion I shall speak more elsewhere: here I notice the philosopher only as illustrating the history and character of Dionysius. Dion, having been profoundly impressed with the conversation of Plato, prevailed upon Dionysius to invite and talk with him also. Plato discoursed eloquently upon justice and virtue, enforcing his doctrine that wicked men were inevitably miserable—that true happiness belonged only to the virtuous—and that despots could not lay claim to the merit of courage.[77] This meagre abstract does not at all enable us to follow the philosopher’s argument. But it is plain that he set forth his general views on social and political subjects with as much freedom and dignity of speech before Dionysius as before any simple citizen; and we are farther told, that the by-standers were greatly captivated by his manner and language. Not so the despot himself. After one or two repetitions of the like discourse, he became not merely averse to the doctrine, but hostile to the person, of Plato. According to the statement of Diodorus, he caused the philosopher to be seized, taken down to the Syracusan slave-market, and there put up for sale as a slave at the price of twenty minæ; which his friends subscribed to pay, and thus released him. According to Plutarch, Plato himself was anxious to depart, and was put by Dion aboard a trireme which was about to convey home the Lacedæmonian envoy Pollis. But Dionysius secretly entreated Pollis to cause him to be slain on the voyage—or at least to sell him as a slave. Plato was accordingly landed at Ægina, and there sold. He was purchased, or repurchased, by Annikeris of Kyrênê, and sent back to Athens. This latter is the more probable story of the two; but it seems to be a certain fact that Plato was really sold, and became for a moment a slave.[78]
That Dionysius should listen to the discourse of Plato with repugnance, not less decided than that which the Emperor Napoleon was wont to show towards ideologists—was an event naturally to be expected. But that, not satisfied with dismissing the philosopher, he should seek to kill, maltreat, or disgrace him, illustrates forcibly the vindictive and irritable elements of his character, and shows how little he was likely to respect the lives of those who stood in his way as political opponents.
Dionysius was at the same time occupied with new constructions, military, civil, and religious, at Syracuse. He enlarged the fortifications of the city by adding a new line of wall, extending along the southern cliff of Epipolæ, from Euryalus to the suburb called Neapolis; which suburb was now, it would appear, surrounded by a separate wall of its own—or perhaps may have been so surrounded a few years earlier, though we know that it was unfortified and open during the attack of Imilkon in 396 B. C.[79] At the time, probably, the fort at the Euryalus was enlarged and completed to the point of grandeur which its present remains indicate. The whole slope of Epipolæ became thus bordered and protected by fortifications, from its base at Achradina to its apex at Euryalus. And Syracuse now comprised five separately fortified portions,—Epipolæ, Neapolis, Tychê, Achradina, and Ortygia; each portion having its own fortification, though the four first were included within the same outer walls. Syracuse thus became the largest fortified city in all Greece; larger even than Athens in its then existing state, though not so large as Athens had been during the Peloponnesian war, while the Phaleric wall was yet standing.
Besides these extensive fortifications, Dionysius also enlarged the docks and arsenals so as to provide accommodation for two hundred men of war. He constructed spacious gymnasia on the banks of the river Anapus, without the city walls; and he further decorated the city with various new temples in honor of different gods.[80]
Such costly novelties added grandeur as well as security to Syracuse, and conferred imposing celebrity on the despot himself. They were dictated by the same aspirations as had prompted his ostentatious legation to Olympia in 384 B. C.; a legation of which the result had been so untoward and intolerable to his feelings. They were intended to console, and doubtless did in part console, the Syracusan people for the loss of their freedom. And they were further designed to serve as fuller preparations for the war against Carthage, which he was now bent upon renewing. He was obliged to look about for a pretext, since the Carthaginians had given him no just cause. But this, though an aggression, was a Pan-hellenic aggression,[81] calculated to win for him the sympathies of all Greeks, philosophers as well as the multitude. And as the war was begun in the year immediately succeeding the insult cast upon him at Olympia, we may ascribe it in part to a wish to perform exploits such as might rescue his name from the like opprobrium in future.
The sum of fifteen hundred talents, recently pillaged from the temple at Agylla,[82] enabled Dionysius to fit out a large army for his projected war. Entering into intrigues with some of the disaffected dependencies of Carthage in Sicily, he encouraged them to revolt, and received them into his alliance. The Carthaginians sent envoys to remonstrate, but could obtain no redress; upon which they on their side prepared for war, accumulated a large force of hired foreign mercenaries under Magon, and contracted alliance with some of the Italiot Greeks hostile to Dionysius. Both parties distributed their forces so as to act partly in Sicily, partly in the adjoining peninsula of Italy; but the great stress of war fell on Sicily, where Dionysius and Magon both commanded in person. After several combats partial and indecisive, a general battle was joined at a place called Kabala. The contest was murderous, and the bravery great on both sides; but at length Dionysius gained a complete victory. Magon himself and ten thousand men of his army were slain; five thousand were made prisoners; while the remainder were driven to retreat to a neighboring eminence, strong, but destitute of water. They were forced to send envoys entreating peace; which Dionysius consented to grant, but only on condition that every Carthaginian should be immediately withdrawn from all the cities in the island, and that he should be reimbursed for the costs of the war.[83]
The Carthaginian generals affected to accept the terms offered, but stated (what was probably the truth), that they could not pledge themselves for the execution of such terms, without assent from the authorities at home. They solicited a truce of a few days, to enable them to send thither for instructions. Persuaded that they could not escape, Dionysius granted their request. Accounting the emancipation of Sicily from the Punic yoke to be already a fact accomplished, he triumphantly exalted himself on a pedestal higher even than that of Gelon. But this very confidence threw him off his guard and proved ruinous to him; as it happened frequently in Grecian military proceedings. The defeated Carthaginian army gradually recovered their spirits. In place of the slain general Magon, who was buried with magnificence, his son was named commander; a youth of extraordinary energy and ability, who so contrived to reassure and reorganize his troops, that when the truce expired, he was ready for a second battle. Probably the Syracusans were taken by surprise and not fully prepared. At least the fortune of Dionysius had fled. In this second action, fought at a spot called Kronium, he underwent a terrible and ruinous defeat. His brother Leptinês, who commanded on one wing, was slain gallantly fighting; those around him were defeated; while Dionysius himself, with his select troops on the other wing, had at first some advantage, but was at length beaten and driven back. The whole army fled in disorder to the camp, pursued with merciless vehemence by the Carthaginians, who, incensed by their previous defeat, neither gave quarter nor took prisoners. Fourteen thousand dead bodies, of the defeated Syracusan army, are said to have been picked up for burial; the rest were only preserved by night and by the shelter of their camp.[84]
Such was the signal victory—the salvation of the army, perhaps even of Carthage herself—gained at Kronium by the youthful son of Magon. Immediately after it, he retired to Panormus. His army probably had been too much enfeebled by the former defeat to undertake farther offensive operations; moreover he himself had as yet no regular appointment as general. The Carthaginian authorities too had the prudence to seize this favorable moment for making peace, and sent to Dionysius envoys with full powers. But Dionysius only obtained peace by large concessions; giving up to Carthage Selinus with its territory, as well as half the Agrigentine territory—all that lay to the west of the river Halykus; and farther covenanting to pay to Carthage the sum of one thousand talents.[85] To these unfavorable conditions Dionysius was constrained to subscribe; after having but a few days before required the Carthaginians to evacuate all Sicily, and pay the costs of the war. As it seems doubtful whether Dionysius would have so large a sum ready to pay down at once, we may reasonably presume that he would undertake to liquidate it by annual instalments. And we thus find confirmation of the memorable statement of Plato, that Dionysius became tributary to the Carthaginians.[86]
Such are the painful gaps in Grecian history as it is transmitted to us, that we hear scarcely anything about Dionysius for thirteen years after the peace of 383-382 B. C. It seems that the Carthaginians (in 379 B. C.) sent an armament to the southern portion of Italy for the purpose of reëstablishing the town of Hipponium and its inhabitants.[87] But their attention appears to have been withdrawn from this enterprise by the recurrence of previous misfortunes—fearful pestilence, and revolt of their Libyan dependencies, which seriously threatened the safety of their city. Again, Dionysius also, during one of these years, undertook some operations, of which a faint echo reaches us, in this same Italian peninsula (now Calabria Ultra). He projected a line of wall across the narrowest portion or isthmus of the peninsula, from the Gulf of Skylletium to that of Hipponium, so as to separate the territory of Lokri from the northern portion of Italy, and secure it completely to his own control. Professedly the wall was destined to repel the incursions of the Lucanians; but in reality (we are told) Dionysius wished to cut off the connection between Lokri and the other Greeks in the Tarentine Gulf. These latter are said to have interposed from without, and prevented the execution of the scheme; but its natural difficulties would be in themselves no small impediment, nor are we sure that the wall was even begun.[88]
During this interval, momentous events (recounted in my previous chapters) had occurred in Central Greece. In 382 B. C., the Spartans made themselves by fraud masters of Thebes, and placed a permanent garrison in the Kadmeia. In 380 B. C., they put down the Olynthian confederacy, thus attaining the maximum of their power. But in 379 B. C., there occurred the revolution at Thebes achieved by the conspiracy of Pelopidas, who expelled the Lacedæmonians from the Kadmeia. Involved in a burdensome war against Thebes and Athens, together with other allies the Lacedæmonians gradually lost ground, and had become much reduced before the peace of 371 B. C., which left them to contend with Thebes alone. Then came the fatal battle of Leuktra which prostrated their military ascendency altogether. These incidents have been already related at large in former chapters. Two years before the battle of Leuktra, Dionysius sent to the aid of the Lacedæmonians at Korkyra a squadron of ten ships, all of which were captured by Iphikrates; about three years after the battle, when the Thebans and their allies were pressing Sparta in Peloponnesus, he twice sent thither a military force of Gauls and Iberians to reinforce her army. But his troops neither stayed long, nor rendered any very conspicuous service.[89]
In this year we hear of a fresh attack by Dionysius against the Carthaginians. Observing that they had been lately much enfeebled by pestilence and by mutiny of their African subjects, he thought the opportunity favorable for trying to recover what the peace of 383 B. C., had obliged him to relinquish. A false pretence being readily found, he invaded the Carthaginian possessions in the west of Sicily with a large land force of thirty thousand foot, and three thousand horse; together with a fleet of three hundred sail, and store ships in proportion. After ravaging much of the open territory of the Carthaginians, he succeeded in mastering Selinus, Entella, and Eryx—and then laid siege to Lilybæum. This town, close to the western cape of Sicily,[90] appears to have arisen as a substitute for the neighboring town of Motyê (of which we hear little more since its capture by Dionysius in 396 B. C.), and to have become the principal Carthaginian station. He began to attack it by active siege and battering machines. But it was so numerously garrisoned, and so well defended, that he was forced to raise the siege and confine himself to blockade. His fleet kept the harbor guarded, so as to intercept supplies from Africa. Not long afterwards, however, he received intelligence that a fire had taken place in the port of Carthage whereby all her ships had been burnt. Being thus led to conceive that there was no longer any apprehension of naval attack from Carthage, he withdrew his fleet from continuous watch off Lilybæum; keeping one hundred and thirty men-of-war near at hand, in the harbor of Eryx, and sending the remainder home to Syracuse. Of this incautious proceeding the Carthaginians took speedy advantage. The conflagration in their port had been much overstated. There still remained to them two hundred ships of war, which, after being equipped in silence, sailed across in the night to Eryx. Appearing suddenly in the harbor, they attacked the Syracusan fleet completely by surprise; and succeeded, without serious resistance, in capturing and towing off nearly all of them. After so capital an advantage, Lilybæum became open to reinforcement and supplies by sea, so that Dionysius no longer thought it worth while to prosecute the blockade. On the approach of winter, both parties resumed the position which they had occupied before the recent movement.[91]
The despot had thus gained nothing by again taking up arms, nor were the Sicilian dependencies of the Carthaginians at all cut down below that which they acquired by the treaty of 383 B. C. But he received (about January or February 367 B. C.) news of a different species of success, which gave him hardly less satisfaction than a victory by land or sea. In the Lenæan festival of Athens, one of his tragedies had been rewarded with the first prize. A chorist who had been employed in the performance—eager to convey the first intelligence of this success to Syracuse and to obtain the recompense which would naturally await the messenger—hastened from Athens to Corinth, found a vessel just starting for Syracuse, and reached Syracuse by a straight course with the advantage of favorable winds. He was the first to communicate the news, and received the full reward of his diligence. Dionysius was overjoyed at the distinction conferred upon him; for though on former occasions he had obtained the second or third place in the Athenian competitions, he had never before been adjudged worthy of the first prize. Offering sacrifice to the gods for the good news, he invited his friends to a splendid banquet, wherein he indulged in an unusual measure of conviviality. But the joyous excitement, coupled with the effects of the wine, brought on an attack of fever, of which he shortly afterwards died, after a reign of thirty-eight years.[92]
Thirty-eight years, of a career so full of effort, adventure, and danger, as that of Dionysius, must have left a constitution sufficiently exhausted to give way easily before acute disease. Throughout this long period he had never spared himself. He was a man of restless energy and activity, bodily as well as mental; always personally at the head of his troops in war—keeping a vigilant eye and a decisive hand upon all the details of his government at home—yet employing spare time (which Philip of Macedon was surprised that he could find[93]) in composing tragedies of his own, to compete for prizes fairly adjudged. His personal bravery was conspicuous, and he was twice severely wounded in leading his soldiers to assault. His effective skill as an ambitious politician—his military resource as a commander—and the long-sighted care with which he provided implements of offence as well as of defence before undertaking war,—are remarkable features in his character. The Roman Scipio Africanus was wont to single out Dionysius and Agathokles (the history of the latter begins about fifty years after the death of the former), both of them despots of Syracuse, as the two Greeks of greatest ability for action known to him—men who combined, in the most memorable degree, daring with sagacity.[94] This criticism, coming from an excellent judge, is borne out by the biography of both, so far as it comes to our knowledge. No other Greek can be pointed out, who, starting from a position humble and unpromising, raised himself to so lofty a pinnacle of dominion at home, achieved such striking military exploits abroad, and preserved his grandeur unimpaired throughout the whole of a long life. Dionysius boasted that he bequeathed to his son an empire fastened by adamantine chains;[95] so powerful was his mercenary force—so firm his position in Ortygia—so completely had the Syracusans been broken into subjection. There cannot be a better test of vigor and ability than the unexampled success with which Dionysius and Agathokles played the game of the despot, and to a certain extent that of the conqueror. Of the two, Dionysius was the most favored by fortune. Both indeed profited by one auxiliary accident, which distinguished Syracuse from other Grecian cities; the local speciality of Ortygia. That islet seemed expressly made to be garrisoned as a separate fortress,—apart from, as well as against, the rest of Syracuse,—having full command of the harbor, docks, naval force, and naval approach. But Dionysius had, besides, several peculiar interventions of the gods in his favor, sometimes at the most critical moments: such was the interpretation put by his enemies (and doubtless by his friends also) upon those repeated pestilences which smote the Carthaginian armies with a force far more deadly than the spear of the Syracusan hoplite. On four or five distinct occasions, during the life of Dionysius, we read of this unseen foe as destroying the Carthaginians both in Sicily and in Africa, but leaving the Syracusans untouched. Twice did it arrest the progress of Imilkon, when in the full career of victory; once, after the capture of Gela and Kamarina—a second time, when, after his great naval victory off Katana, he had brought his numerous host under the walls of Syracuse, and was actually master of the open suburb of Achradina. On both these occasions the pestilence made a complete revolution in the face of the war; exalting Dionysius from impending ruin, to assured safety in the one, and to unmeasured triumph in the other. We are bound to allow for this good fortune (the like of which never befel Agathokles), when we contemplate the long prosperity of Dionysius[96], and when we adopt, as in justice we must, the panegyric of Scipio Africanus.
The preceding chapter has detailed the means whereby Dionysius attained his prize, and kept it: those employed by Agathokles—analogous in spirit but of still darker coloring in the details—will appear hereafter. That Hermokrates—who had filled with credit the highest offices in the state and whom men had acquired the habit of following—should aspire to become despot, was no unusual phenomenon in Grecian politics; but that Dionysius should aim at mounting the same ladder, seemed absurd or even insane—to use the phrase of Isokrates.[97] If, then, in spite of such disadvantage he succeeded in fastening round his countrymen, accustomed to a free constitution as their birth-right, those “adamantine chains” which they were well known to abhor—we may be sure that his plan of proceeding must have been dexterously chosen, and prosecuted with consummate perseverance and audacity; but we may be also sure that it was nefarious in the extreme. The machinery of fraud whereby the people were to be cheated into a temporary submission, as a prelude to the machinery of force whereby such submission was to be perpetuated against their consent—was the stock in trade of Grecian usurpers. But seldom does it appear prefaced by more impudent calumnies, or worked out with a larger measure of violence and spoliation, than in the case of Dionysius. He was indeed powerfully seconded at the outset by the danger of Syracuse from the Carthaginian arms. But his scheme of usurpation, far from diminishing such danger, tended materially to increase it, by disuniting the city at so critical a moment. Dionysius achieved nothing in his first enterprise for the relief of Gela and Kamarina. He was forced to retire with as much disgrace as those previous generals whom he had so bitterly vituperated; and apparently even with greater disgrace—since there are strong grounds for believing that he entered into traitorous collusion with the Carthaginians. The salvation of Syracuse, at that moment of peril, arose not from the energy or ability of Dionysius, but from the opportune epidemic which disabled Imilkon in the midst of a victorious career.
Dionysius had not only talents to organize, and boldness to make good, a despotism more formidable than anything known to contemporary Greeks, but also systematic prudence to keep it unimpaired for thirty-eight years. He maintained carefully those two precautions which Thucydides specifies as the causes of permanence to the Athenian Hippias, under similar circumstances—intimidation over the citizens, and careful organization, with liberal pay among his mercenaries.[98] He was temperate in indulgencies; never led by any of his appetites into the commission of violence.[99] This abstinence contributed materially to prolong his life, since many a Grecian despot perished through desperate feelings of individual vengeance provoked by his outrages. With Dionysius, all other appetites were merged in the love of dominion, at home and abroad; and of money as a means of dominion. To the service of this master-passion all his energies were devoted, together with those vast military resources which an unscrupulous ability served both to accumulate and to recruit. How his treasury was supplied, with the large exigencies continually pressing upon it, we are but little informed. We know however that his exactions from the Syracusans were exorbitant;[100] that he did not hesitate to strip the holiest temples; and that he left behind him a great reputation for ingenious tricks in extracting money from his subjects.[101] Besides the large garrison of foreign mercenaries by whom his orders were enforced, he maintained a regular body of spies, seemingly of both sexes, disseminated among the body of the citizens.[102] The vast quarry-prison of Syracuse was his work.[103] Both the vague general picture, and the fragmentary details which come before us, of his conduct towards the Syracusans, present to us nothing but an oppressive and extortionate tyrant, by whose fiat numberless victims perished; more than ten thousand according to the general language of Plutarch.[104] He enriched largely his younger brothers and auxiliaries; among which latter, Hipparinus stood prominent, thus recovering a fortune equal to or larger than that which his profligacy had dissipated.[105] But we hear also of acts of Dionysius, indicating a jealous and cruel temper, even towards near relatives. And it appears certain that he trusted no one, not even them;[106] that though in the field he was a perfectly brave man, yet his suspicion and timorous anxiety as to every one who approached his person, were carried to the most tormenting excess, and extended even to his wives, his brothers, his daughters. Afraid to admit any one with a razor near to his face, he is said to have singed his own beard with a burning coal. Both his brother and his son were searched for concealed weapons, and even forced to change their clothes in the presence of his guards, before they were permitted to see him. An officer of the guards named Marsyas, having dreamt that he was assassinating Dionysius, was put to death for this dream, as proving that his waking thoughts must have been dwelling upon such a project. And it has already been mentioned that Dionysius put to death the mother of one of his wives, on suspicion that she had by incantations brought about the barrenness of the other—as well as the sons of a Lokrian citizen named Aristeides, who had refused, with indignant expressions, to grant to him his daughter in marriage.[107]
Such were the conditions of existence—perpetual mistrust, danger even from the nearest kindred, enmity both to and from every dignified freeman, and reliance only on armed barbarians or liberated slaves—which beset almost every Grecian despot, and from which the greatest despot of his age enjoyed no exemption. Though philosophers emphatically insisted that such a man must be miserable,[108] yet Dionysius himself, as well as the great mass of admiring spectators, would probably feel that the necessities of his position were more than compensated by its awe-striking grandeur, and by the full satisfaction of ambitious dreams, subject indeed to poignant suffering when wounded in the tender point, and when reaping insult in place of admiration, at the memorable Olympic festival of 384 B. C., above-described. But the Syracusans, over whom he ruled, enjoyed no such compensation for that which they suffered from his tax-gatherers—from his garrison of Gauls, Iberians, and Campanians, in Ortygia—from his spies—his prison—and his executioners.
Nor did Syracuse suffer alone. The reign of the elder Dionysius was desolating for the Hellenic population generally, both of Sicily and Italy. Syracuse became a great fortress, with vast military power in the hands of its governor, “whose policy[109] it was to pack all Sicily into it;” while the remaining free Hellenic communities were degraded, enslaved, and half depopulated. On this topic, the mournful testimonies already cited from Lysias and Isokrates, are borne out by the letters of the eye-witness Plato. In his advice, given to the son and successor of Dionysius, Plato emphatically presses upon him two points: first, as to the Syracusans, to transform his inherited oppressive despotism into the rule of a king, governing gently and by fixed laws; next, to reconstitute and repeople, under free constitutions, the other Hellenic communities in Sicily, which at his accession had become nearly barbarised and half deserted.[110] The elder Dionysius had imported into Sicily large bodies of mercenaries, by means of whom he had gained his conquests, and for whom he had provided settlements at the cost of the subdued Hellenic cities. In Naxos, Katana, Leontini, and Messênê, the previous residents had been dispossessed and others substituted, out of Gallic and Iberian mercenaries. Communities thus transformed, with their former free citizens degraded into dependence or exile, not only ceased to be purely Hellenic, but also became far less populous and flourishing. In like manner Dionysius had suppressed, and absorbed into Syracuse and Lokri, the once autonomous Grecian communities of Rhegium, Hipponium, and Kaulonia, on the Italian side of the strait. In the inland regions of Italy, he had allied himself with the barbarous Lucanians; who, even without his aid, were gaining ground and pressing hard upon the Italiot Greeks on the coast.
If we examine the results of the warfare carried on by Dionysius against the Carthaginians, from the commencement to the end of his career, we shall observe, that he began by losing Gela and Kamarina, and that the peace by which he was enabled to preserve Syracuse itself, arose, not from any success of his own, but from the pestilence which ruined his enemies; to say nothing about traitorous collusion with them, which I have already remarked to have been the probable price of their guarantee to his dominion. His war against the Carthaginians in 397 B. C., was undertaken with much vigor, recovered Gela, Kamarina, Agrigentum, and Selinus, and promised the most decisive success. But presently again the tide of fortune turned against him. He sustained capital defeats, and owed the safety of Syracuse, a second time, to nothing but the terrific pestilence which destroyed the army of Imilkon. A third time, in 383 B. C., Dionysius gratuitously renewed the war against Carthage. After brilliant success at first, he was again totally defeated, and forced to cede to Carthage all the territory west of the river Halykus, besides paying a tribute. So that the exact difference between the Sicilian territory of Carthage—as it stood at the beginning of his command and at the end of his reign—amounts to this: that at the earlier period it reached to the river Himera—at the later period only to the river Halykus. The intermediate space between the two comprehends Agrigentum with the greater part of its territory; which represents therefore the extent of Hellenic soil rescued by Dionysius from Carthaginian dominion.
CHAPTER LXXXIV.
SICILIAN AFFAIRS AFTER THE DEATH OF THE ELDER DIONYSIUS — DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER — AND DION.
The Elder Dionysius, at the moment of his death, boasted of having left his dominion “fastened by chains of adamant;” that is, sustained by a large body of mercenaries,[111] well trained and well paid—by impregnable fortifications on the islet of Ortygia—by four hundred ships of war—by immense magazines of arms and military stores—and by established intimidation over the minds of the Syracusans. These were really “chains of adamant”—so long as there was a man like Dionysius to keep them in hand. But he left no successor competent to the task; nor indeed an unobstructed succession. He had issue by two wives, whom he had married both at the same time, as has been already mentioned. By the Lokrian wife, Doris, he had his eldest son named Dionysius, and two others; by the Syracusan wife Aristomachê, daughter of Hipparinus, he had two sons, Hipparinus and Nysæus—and two daughters, Sophrosynê and Aretê.[112] Dionysius the younger can hardly have been less than twenty-five years old at the death of his father and namesake. Hipparinus, the eldest son by the other wife, was considerably younger. Aristomachê his mother had long remained childless; a fact which the elder Dionysius ascribed to incantations wrought by the mother of the Lokrian wife, and punished by putting to death the supposed sorceress.[113]
The offspring of Aristomachê, though the younger brood of the two, derived considerable advantage from the presence and countenance of her brother Dion. Hipparinus, father of Dion and Aristomachê, had been the principal abettor of the elder Dionysius in his original usurpation, in order to retrieve his own fortune,[114] ruined by profligate expenditure. So completely had that object been accomplished, that his son Dion was now among the richest men in Syracuse,[115] possessing property estimated at above one hundred talents (about £23,000). Dion was, besides, son-in-law to the elder Dionysius, who had given his daughter Sophrosynê in marriage to his son (by a different mother) the younger Dionysius; and his daughter Aretê, first to his brother Thearides—next, on the death of Thearides, to Dion. As brother of Aristomachê, Dion was thus brother-in-law to the elder Dionysius, and uncle both to Aretê his own wife and to Sophrosynê the wife of the younger Dionysius; as husband of Aretê, he was son-in-law to the elder Dionysius, and brother-in-law (as well as uncle) to the wife of the younger. Marriages between near relatives (excluding any such connection between uterine brother and sister) were usual in Greek manners. We cannot doubt that the despot accounted the harmony likely to be produced by such ties between the members of his two families and Dion, among the “adamantine chains” which held fast his dominion.
Apart from wealth and high position, the personal character of Dion was in itself marked and prominent. He was of an energetic temper, great bravery, and very considerable mental capacities. Though his nature was haughty and disdainful towards individuals, yet as to political communion, his ambition was by no means purely self-seeking and egoistic, like that of the elder Dionysius. Animated with vehement love of power, he was at the same time penetrated with that sense of regulated polity, and submission of individual will to fixed laws, which floated in the atmosphere of Grecian talk and literature, and stood so high in Grecian morality. He was moreover capable of acting with enthusiasm, and braving every hazard in prosecution of his own convictions.
Born about the year 408 B. C.,[116] Dion was twenty-one years of age in 378 B. C., when the elder Dionysius, having dismantled Rhegium and subdued Kroton, attained the maximum of his dominion, as master of the Sicilian and Italian Greeks. Standing high in the favor of his brother-in-law Dionysius, Dion doubtless took part in the wars whereby this large dominion had been acquired; as well as in the life of indulgence and luxury which prevailed generally among wealthy Greeks in Sicily and Italy, and which to the Athenian Plato appeared alike surprising and repulsive.[117] That great philosopher visited Italy and Sicily about 387 B. C., as has been already mentioned. He was in acquaintance and fellowship with the school of philosophers called Pythagoreans; the remnant of that Pythagorean brotherhood, who had once exercised so powerful a political influence over the cities of those regions—and who still enjoyed considerable reputation, even after complete political downfall, through individual ability and rank of the members, combined with habits of recluse study, mysticism, and attachment among themselves. With these Pythagoreans Dion also, a young man of open mind and ardent aspirations, was naturally thrown into communication by the proceedings of the elder Dionysius in Italy.[118] Through them he came into intercourse with Plato, whose conversation made an epoch in his life.
The mystic turn of imagination, the sententious brevity, and the mathematical researches of the Pythagoreans, produced doubtless an imposing effect upon Dion; just as Lysis, a member of that brotherhood, had acquired the attachment and influenced the sentiments of Epaminondas at Thebes. But Plato’s power of working upon the minds of young men was far more impressive and irresistible. He possessed a large range of practical experience, a mastery of political and social topics, and a charm of eloquence, to which the Pythagoreans were strangers. The stirring effect of the Sokratic talk, as well as of the democratical atmosphere in which Plato had been brought up, had developed all the communicative aptitude of his mind; and great as that aptitude appears in his remaining dialogues, there is ground for believing that it was far greater in his conversation; greater perhaps in 387 B. C., when he was still mainly the Sokratic Plato—than it became in later days, after he had imbibed to a certain extent the mysticism of these Pythagoreans.[119] Brought up as Dion had been at the court of Dionysius—accustomed to see around him only slavish deference and luxurious enjoyment—unused to open speech or large philosophical discussion—he found in Plato a new man exhibited, and a new world opened before him.
The conception of a free community—with correlative rights and duties belonging to every citizen, determined by laws and protected or enforced by power emanating from the collective entity called the City—stood in the foreground of ordinary Grecian morality—reigned spontaneously in the bosoms of every Grecian festival crowd—and had been partially imbibed by Dion, though not from his own personal experience, yet from teachers, sophists, and poets. This conception, essential and fundamental with philosophers as well as with the vulgar, was not merely set forth by Plato with commanding powers of speech, but also exalted with improvements and refinements into an ideal perfection. Above all, it was based upon a strict, even an abstemious and ascetic, canon, as to individual enjoyment; and upon a careful training both of mind and body, qualifying each man for the due performance of his duties as a citizen; a subject which Plato (as we see by his dialogues) did not simply propound with the direct enforcement of a preacher, but touched with the quickening and pungent effect, and reinforced with the copious practical illustrations, of Sokratic dialogue.
As the stimulus from the teacher was here put forth with consummate efficacy, so the predisposition of the learner enabled it to take full effect. Dion became an altered man both in public sentiment and in individual behavior. He recollected that twenty years before, his country Syracuse had been as free as Athens. He learnt to abhor the iniquity of the despotism by which her liberty had been overthrown, and by which subsequently the liberties of so many other Greeks in Italy and Sicily had been trodden down also. He was made to remark, that Sicily had been half-barbarized through the foreign mercenaries imported as the despot’s instruments. He conceived the sublime idea or dream of rectifying all this accumulation of wrong and suffering. It was his wish first to cleanse Syracuse from the blot of slavery, and to clothe her anew in the brightness and dignity of freedom; yet not with the view of restoring the popular government as it had stood prior to the usurpation, but of establishing an improved constitutional policy, originated by himself, with laws which should not only secure individual rights, but also educate and moralize the citizens.[120] The function which he imagined to himself, and which the conversation of Plato suggested, was not that of a despot like Dionysius, but that of a despotic legislator like Lykurgus,[121] taking advantage of a momentary omnipotence, conferred upon him by grateful citizens in a state of public confusion, to originate a good system; which, when once put in motion, would keep itself alive by fashioning the minds of the citizens to its own intrinsic excellence. After having thus both liberated and reformed Syracuse, Dion promised to himself that he would employ Syracusan force, not in annihilating, but in recreating, other free Hellenic communities throughout the island; expelling from thence all the barbarians—both the imported mercenaries and the Carthaginians.
Such were the hopes and projects which arose in the mind of the youthful Dion as he listened to Plato; hopes pregnant with future results which neither of them contemplated—and not unworthy of being compared with those enthusiastic aspirations which the young Spartan kings Agis and Kleomenes imbibed, a century afterwards, in part from the conversation of the philosopher Sphærus.[122] Never before had Plato met with a pupil who so quickly apprehended, so profoundly meditated, or so passionately laid to heart, his lessons.[123] Inflamed with his newly communicated impulse towards philosophy, as the supreme guide and directress of virtuous conduct, Dion altered his habits of life; exchanging the splendor and luxury of a Sicilian rich man for the simple fare and regulated application becoming a votary of the Academy. In this course he persisted without faltering throughout all his residence at the court of Dionysius, in spite of the unpopularity contracted among his immediate companions. His enthusiasm even led him to believe, that the despot himself, unable to resist that persuasive tongue by which he had been himself converted, might be gently brought round into an employment of his mighty force for beneficent and reformatory purposes. Accordingly Dion, inviting Plato to Syracuse, procured for him an interview with Dionysius. How miserably the speculation failed, has been recounted in my last chapter. Instead of acquiring a new convert, the philosopher was fortunate in rescuing his own person, and in making good his returning footsteps out of that lion’s den, into which the improvident enthusiasm of his young friend had inveigled him.
The harsh treatment of Plato by Dionysius was a painful, though salutary, warning to Dion. Without sacrificing either his own convictions, or the philosophical regularity of life which he had thought fit to adopt—he saw that patience was imperatively necessary, and he so conducted himself as to maintain unabated the favor and confidence of Dionysius. Such a policy would probably be recommended to him even by Plato, in prospect of a better future. But it would be strenuously urged by the Pythagoreans of Southern Italy; among whom was Archytas, distinguished not only as a mathematician and friend of Plato, but also as the chief political magistrate of Tarentum. To these men, who dwelt all within the reach,[124] if not under the dominion, of this formidable Syracusan despot, it would be an unspeakable advantage to have a friend like Dion near him, possessing his confidence, and serving as a shield to them against his displeasure or interference. Dion so far surmounted his own unbending nature as to conduct himself towards Dionysius with skill and prudence. He was employed by the despot in several important affairs, especially in embassies to Carthage, which he fulfilled well, especially with conspicuous credit for eloquence; and also in the execution of various cruel orders, which his humanity secretly mitigated.[125] After the death of Thearides, Dionysius gave to Dion in marriage the widow Aretê (his daughter), and continued until the last to treat him with favor, accepting from him a freedom of censure such as he would tolerate from no other adviser.
During the many years which elapsed before the despot died, we cannot doubt that Dion found opportunities of visiting Peloponnesus and Athens, for the great festivals and other purposes. He would thus keep up his friendship and philosophical communication with Plato. Being as he was minister and relative, and perhaps successor presumptive, of the most powerful prince in Greece, he would enjoy everywhere great importance, which would be enhanced by his philosophy and eloquence. The Spartans, at that time the allies of Dionysius, conferred upon Dion the rare honor of a vote of citizenship;[126] and he received testimonies of respect from other cities also. Such honors tended to exalt his reputation at Syracuse; while the visits to Athens and the cities of Central Greece enlarged his knowledge both of politicians and philosophers.
At length occurred the death of the elder Dionysius, occasioned by an unexpected attack of fever, after a few days’ illness. He had made no special announcement about his succession. Accordingly, as soon as the physicians pronounced him to be in imminent danger, a competition arose between his two families: on the one hand Dionysius the younger, his son by the Lokrian wife Doris; on the other, his wife Aristomachê and her brother Dion, representing her children Hipparinus and Nysæus, then very young. Dion, wishing to obtain for these two youths either a partnership in the future power, or some other beneficial provision, solicited leave to approach the bedside of the sick man. But the physicians refused to grant his request without apprising the younger Dionysius; who, being resolved to prevent it, directed a soporific portion to be administered to his father, from the effects of which the latter never awoke so as to be able to see any one.[127] The interview with Dion being thus frustrated, and the father dying without giving any directions, Dionysius the younger succeeded as eldest son, without opposition. He was presented to that which was called an assembly of the Syracusan people,[128] and delivered some conciliatory phrases, requesting them to continue to him that good-will which they had so long shown to his father. Consent and acclamation were of course not wanting, to the new master of the troops, treasures, magazines, and fortifications in Ortygia; those “adamantine chains” which were well known to dispense with the necessity of any real popular good-will.
Dionysius II. (or the younger), then about twenty-five years of age, was a young man of considerable natural capacity, and of quick and lively impulses;[129] but weak and vain in his character, given to transitory caprices, and eager in his appetite for praise without being capable of any industrious or resolute efforts to earn it. As yet he was wholly unpractised in serious business of any kind. He had neither seen military service nor mingled in the discussion of political measures; having been studiously kept back from both, by the extreme jealousy of his father. His life had been passed in the palace or acropolis of Ortygia, amidst all the indulgences and luxuries belonging to a princely station, diversified with amateur carpenter’s work and turnery. However, the tastes of the father introduced among the guests at the palace a certain number of poets, reciters, musicians, etc., so that the younger Dionysius had contracted a relish for poetical literature, which opened his mind to generous sentiments, and large conceptions of excellence, more than any portion of his very confined experience. To philosophy, to instructive conversation, to the exercise of reason, he was a stranger.[130] But the very feebleness and indecision of his character presented him as impressible, perhaps improvable, by a strong will and influence brought to bear upon him from that quarter, at least as well as from any other.
Such was the novice who suddenly stept into the place of the most energetic and powerful despot of the Grecian world. Dion—being as he was of mature age, known service and experience, and full enjoyment of the confidence of the elder Dionysius,—might have probably raised material opposition to the younger. But he attempted no such thing. He acknowledged and supported the young prince with cordial sincerity, dropping altogether those views, whatever they were, on behalf of the children of Aristomachê, which had induced him to solicit the last interview with the sick man. While exerting himself to strengthen and facilitate the march of the government, he tried to gain influence and ascendency over the mind of the young Dionysius. At the first meeting of council which took place after the accession, Dion stood conspicuous not less for his earnest adhesion than for his dignified language and intelligent advice. The remaining councillors—accustomed, under the self-determining despot who had just quitted the scene, to the simple function of hearing, applauding, and obeying, his directions—exhausted themselves in phrases and compliments, waiting to catch the tone of the young prince before they ventured to pronounce any decided opinion. But Dion, to whose freedom of speech even the elder Dionysius had partially submitted, disdained all such tampering, entered at once into a full review of the actual situation, and suggested the positive measures proper to be adopted. We cannot doubt that, in the transmission of an authority which had rested so much on the individual spirit of the former possessor, there were many precautions to be taken, especially in regard to the mercenary troops both at Syracuse and in the outlying dependencies. All these necessities of the moment Dion set forth, together with suitable advice. But the most serious of all the difficulties arose out of the war with Carthage still subsisting, which it was foreseen that the Carthaginians were likely to press more vigorously, calculating on the ill-assured tenure and inexperienced management of the new prince. This difficulty Dion took upon himself. If the council should think it wise to make peace, he engaged to go to Carthage and negotiate peace—a task in which he had been more than once employed under the elder Dionysius. If, on the other hand, it were resolved to prosecute the war, he advised that imposing forces should be at once put in equipment, promising to furnish, out of his own large property, a sum sufficient for the outfit of fifty triremes.[131]
The young Dionysius was not only profoundly impressed with the superior wisdom and suggestive resource of Dion, but also grateful for his generous offer of pecuniary as well as personal support.[132] In all probability Dion actually carried the offer into effect, for to a man of his disposition, money had little value except as a means of extending influence and acquiring reputation. The war with Carthage seems to have lasted at least throughout the next year,[133] and to have been terminated not long afterwards. But it never assumed those perilous proportions which had been contemplated by the council as probable. As a mere contingency, however, it was sufficient to inspire Dionysius with alarm, combined with the other exigencies of his new situation. At first he was painfully conscious of his own inexperience; anxious about hazards which he now saw for the first time, and not merely open to advice, but eager and thankful for suggestions, from any quarter where he could place confidence. Dion, identified by ancient connection as well as by marriage with the Dionysian family—trusted, more than any one else, by the old despot, and surrounded with that accessory dignity which ascetic strictness of life usually confers in excess—presented every title to such confidence. And when he was found not only the most trustworthy, but the most frank and fearless, of councillors, Dionysius gladly yielded both to the measures which he advised and to the impulses which he inspired.
Such was the political atmosphere of Syracuse during the period immediately succeeding the new accession, while the splendid obsequies in honor of the departed Dionysius were being solemnized; coupled with a funeral pile so elaborate as to confer celebrity on Timæus the constructor—and commemorated by architectural monuments, too grand to be permanent,[134] immediately outside of Ortygia, near the Regal Gates leading to that citadel. Among the popular measures, natural at the commencement of a new reign, the historian Philistus was recalled from exile.[135] He had been one of the oldest and most attached partisans of the elder Dionysius; by whom, however, he had at last been banished, and never afterwards forgiven. His recall now seemed to promise a new and valuable assistant to the younger, whom it also presented as softening the rigorous proceedings of his father. In this respect, it would harmonize with the views of Dion, though Philistus afterwards became his great opponent.
Dion was now both the prime minister, and the confidential monitor, of the young Dionysius. He upheld the march of the government with undiminished energy, and was of greater political importance than Dionysius himself. But success in this object was not the end for which Dion labored. He neither wished to serve a despot, nor to become a despot himself. The moment was favorable for resuming that project which he had formerly imbibed from Plato, and which, in spite of contemptuous disparagement by his former master, had ever since clung to him as the dream of his heart and life. To make Syracuse a free city, under a government, not of will, but of good laws, with himself as lawgiver in substance, if not in name—to enfranchise and replant the semi-barbarised Hellenic cities in Sicily—and to expel the Carthaginians—were schemes to which he now again devoted himself with unabated enthusiasm. But he did not look to any other means of achieving them than the consent and initiative of Dionysius himself. The man who had been sanguine enough to think of working upon the iron soul of the father, was not likely to despair of shaping anew the more malleable metal of which the son was composed. Accordingly, while lending to Dionysius his best service as minister, he also took up the Platonic profession, and tried to persuade him to reform both himself and his government. He endeavored to awaken in him a relish for a better and nobler private conduct than that which prevailed among the luxurious companions around him. He dwelt with enthusiasm on the scientific and soul-stirring conversation of Plato; specimens[136] of which he either read aloud or repeated, exalting the hearer not only to a higher intellectual range, but also to the full majesty of mind requisite for ruling others with honor and improvement. He pointed out the unrivalled glory which Dionysius would acquire in the eyes of Greece, by consenting to employ his vast power, not as a despot working on the fears of subjects, but as a king enforcing temperance and justice, by his own paternal example as well as by good laws. He tried to show that Dionysius, after having liberated Syracuse, and enrolled himself as a king limited and responsible amidst grateful citizens, would have far more real force against the barbarians than at present.[137]
Such were the new convictions which Dion tried to work into the mind of the young Dionysius, as a living faith and sentiment. Penetrated as he was with the Platonic idea—that nothing could be done for the improvement and happiness of mankind,[138] until philosophy and ruling power came together in the same hands; but everything, if the two did so come together—he thought that he saw before him a chance of realizing the conjunction, in the case of the greatest among all Hellenic potentates. He already beheld in fancy his native country and fellow citizens liberated, moralized, ennobled, and conducted to happiness, without murder or persecution,[139] simply by the well-meaning and instructed employment of power already organized. If accident had thrown the despotism into the hands of Dion himself, at this period of his life, the Grecian world would probably have seen an experiment tried, as memorable and generous as any event recorded in its history: what would have been its result, we cannot say. But it was enough to fire his inmost soul, to see himself separated from the experiment only by the necessity of persuading an impressible young man over whom he had much influence; and for himself he was quite satisfied with the humbler position of nominal minister, but real originator and chief, in so noble an enterprise.[140] His persuasive powers, strengthened as they were by intense earnestness as well as by his imposing station and practical capacity, actually wrought a great effect upon Dionysius. The young man appeared animated with a strong desire of self-improvement, and of qualifying himself for such a use of the powers of government as Dion depicted. He gave proof of the sincerity of his feeling by expressing eagerness to see and converse with Plato, to whom he sent several personal messages, warmly requesting him to visit Syracuse.[141]
This was precisely the first step which Dion had been laboring to bring about. He well knew, and had personally felt, the wonderful magic of Plato’s conversation when addressed to young men. To bring Plato to Syracuse, and to pour his eloquent language into the predisposed ears of Dionysius, appeared like realizing the conjunction of philosophy and power. Accordingly he sent to Athens, along with the invitation from Dionysius, the most pressing and emphatic entreaties from himself. He represented the immense prize to be won—nothing less than the means of directing the action of an organized power, extending over all the Greeks of Italy and Sicily—provided only the mind of Dionysius could be thoroughly gained over. This (he said) was already half done; not only Dionysius himself, but also his youthful half brothers of the other line, had been impressed with earnest mental aspirations, and longed to drink at the pure fountain of true philosophy. Everything presaged complete success, such as would render them hearty and active proselytes, if Plato would only come forthwith—before hostile influences could have time to corrupt them—and devote to the task his unrivalled art of penetrating the youthful mind. These hostile influences were indeed at work, and with great activity; if victorious, they would not only defeat the project of Dion, but might even provoke his expulsion, or threaten his life. Could Plato, by declining the invitation, leave his devoted champion and apostle to fight so great a battle, alone and unassisted? What could Plato say for himself afterwards, if by declining to come, he not only let slip the greatest prospective victory which had ever been opened to philosophy, but also permitted the corruption of Dionysius and the ruin of Dion?[142]
Such appeals, in themselves emphatic and touching, reached Athens reinforced by solicitations, hardly less strenuous, from Archytas of Tarentum and the other Pythagorean philosophers in the south of Italy; to whose personal well-being, over and above the interests of philosophy, the character of the future Syracusan government was of capital importance. Plato was deeply agitated and embarrassed. He was now sixty-one years of age. He enjoyed preëminent estimation, in the grove of Akadêmus near Athens, amidst admiring hearers from all parts of Greece. The Athenian democracy, if it accorded to him no influence on public affairs, neither molested him nor dimmed his intellectual glory. The proposed voyage to Syracuse carried him out of his enviable position into a new field of hazard and speculation; brilliant indeed and flattering, beyond anything which had ever been approached by philosophy, if it succeeded; but fraught with disgrace, and even with danger to all concerned, if it failed. Plato had already seen the elder Dionysius surrounded by his walls and mercenaries in Ortygia, and had learnt by cruel experience the painful consequences of propounding philosophy to an intractable hearer, whose displeasure passed so readily into act. The sight of contemporary despots nearer home, such as Euphron of Sikyon and Alexander of Pheræ, was by no means reassuring; nor could he reasonably stake his person and reputation on the chance, that the younger Dionysius might prove a glorious exception to the general rule. To outweigh such scruples, he had indeed the positive and respectful invitation of Dionysius himself; which however would have passed for a transitory, though vehement caprice on the part of a young prince, had it not been backed by the strong assurances of a mature man and valued friend like Dion. To these assurances, and to the shame which would be incurred by leaving Dion to fight the battle and incur the danger alone, Plato sacrificed his own grounds for hesitation. He went to Syracuse, less with the hope of succeeding in the intended conversion of Dionysius, than from the fear of hearing both himself and his philosophy taunted with confessed impotence—as fit only for the discussions of the school, shrinking from all application to practice, betraying the interest of his Pythagorean friends, and basely deserting that devoted champion who had half opened the door to him for triumphant admission.[143]
Such is the account which the philosopher gives of his own state of mind in going to Syracuse. At the same time, he intimates that his motives were differently interpreted by others.[144] And as the account which we possess was written fifteen years after the event—when Dion had perished, when the Syracusan enterprise had realized nothing like what was expected, and when Plato looked back upon it with the utmost grief and aversion,[145] which must have poisoned the last three or four years of his life—we may fairly suspect that he partially transfers back to 367 B. C. the feelings of 352 B. C.; and that at the earlier period, he went to Syracuse not merely because he was ashamed to decline, but because he really flattered himself with some hopes of success.
However desponding he may have been before, he could hardly fail to conceive hopes from the warmth of his first reception. One of the royal carriages met him at his landing, and conveyed him to his lodging. Dionysius offered a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the gods for his safe arrival. The banquets at the acropolis became distinguished for their plainness and sobriety. Never had Dionysius been seen so gentle in answering suitors or transacting public business. He began immediately to take lessons in geometry from Plato. Every one around him, of course, was suddenly smitten with a taste for geometry;[146] so that the floors were all spread with sand, and nothing was to be seen except triangles and other figures inscribed upon it, with expositors and a listening crowd around them. To those who had been inmates of the acropolis, under the reign of the former despot, this change was surprising enough. But their surprise was converted into alarm, when, at a periodical sacrifice just then offered, Dionysius himself arrested the herald in pronouncing the customary prayer to the gods—“That the despotism might long remain unshaken.” “Stop! (said Dionysius to the herald) imprecate no such curse upon us!”[147] To the ears of Philistus, and the old politicians, these words portended nothing less than revolution to the dynasty, and ruin to Syracusan power. A single Athenian sophist (they exclaimed), with no other force than his tongue and his reputation, had achieved the conquest of Syracuse; an attempt in which thousands of his countrymen had miserably perished half a century before.[148] Ineffably were they disgusted to see Dionysius abdicate in favor of Plato, and exchange the care of his vast force and dominion for geometrical problems and discussions on the summum bonum.
For a moment Plato seemed to be despot of Syracuse; so that the noble objects for which Dion had labored were apparently within his reach, either wholly or in part. And as far as we can judge, they really were to a great degree within his reach—had this situation, so interesting and so fraught with consequences to the people of Sicily, been properly turned to account. With all reverence for the greatest philosopher of antiquity, we are forced to confess that upon his own showing, he not only failed to turn the situation to account, but contributed even to spoil it by an unseasonable rigor. To admire philosophy in its distinguished teachers, is one thing; to learn and appropriate it, is another stage, rarer and more difficult, requiring assiduous labor, and no common endowments; while that which Plato calls “the philosophical life,”[149] or practical predominance of a well-trained intellect and well-chosen ethical purposes, combined with the minimum of personal appetite—is a third stage, higher and rarer still. Now Dionysius had reached the first stage only. He had contracted a warm and profound admiration for Plato. He had imbibed this feeling from the exhortations of Dion; and we shall see by his subsequent conduct that it was really a feeling both sincere and durable. But he admired Plato without having either inclination or talent to ascend higher, and to acquire what Plato called philosophy. Now it was an unexpected good fortune, and highly creditable to the persevering enthusiasm of Dion, that Dionysius should have been wound up so far as to admire Plato, to invoke his presence, and to instal him as a sort of spiritual power by the side of the temporal. Thus much was more than could have been expected; but to demand more, and to insist that Dionysius should go to school and work through a course of mental regeneration—was a purpose hardly possible to attain, and positively mischievous if it failed. Unfortunately, it was exactly this error which Plato, and Dion in deference to Plato, seem to have committed. Instead of taking advantage of the existing ardor of Dionysius to instigate him at once into active political measures beneficial to the people of Syracuse and Sicily, with the full force of an authority which, at that moment, would have been irresistible—instead of heartening him up against groundless fears or difficulties of execution, and seeing that full honor was done to him for all the good which he really accomplished, meditated, or adopted—Plato postponed all these as matters for which his royal pupil was not yet ripe. He and Dion began to deal with Dionysius as a confessor treats his penitent; to probe the interior man[150]—to expose him to his own unworthiness—to show that his life, his training, his companions, had all been vicious—to insist upon repentance and amendment upon these points, before he could receive absolution, and be permitted to enter upon active political life—to tell him that he must reform himself, and become a rational and temperate man, before he was fit to enter seriously on the task of governing others.
Such was the language which Plato and Dion held to Dionysius. They well knew indeed that they were treading on delicate ground—that while irritating a spirited horse in the sensitive part, they had no security against his kicks.[151] Accordingly, they resorted to many circumlocutory and equivocal expressions, so as to soften the offence given. But the effect was not the less produced, of disgusting Dionysius with his velleities towards political good. Not only did Plato decline entering upon political recommendations of his own, but he damped, instead of enforcing, the positive good resolutions which Dion had already succeeded in infusing. Dionysius announced freely, in the presence of Plato, his wish and intention to transform his despotism at Syracuse into a limited kingship, and to replant the dis-hellenised cities in Sicily. These were the two grand points to which Dion had been laboring so generously to bring him, and which he had invoked Plato for the express purpose of seconding. Yet what does Plato say when this momentous announcement is made? Instead of bestowing any praise or encouragement, he drily remarks to Dionysius,—“First go through your schooling, and then do all these things; otherwise leave them undone.”[152] Dionysius afterwards complained, and with good show of reason (when Dion was in exile, menacing attack upon Syracuse, under the favorable sympathies of Plato), that the great philosopher had actually deterred him (Dionysius) from executing the same capital improvements which he was now encouraging Dion to accomplish by an armed invasion. Plato was keenly sensitive to this reproach afterwards; but even his own exculpation proves it to have been in the main not undeserved.
Plutarch observes that Plato felt a proud consciousness of philosophical dignity in disdaining respect to persons, and in refusing to the defects of Dionysius any greater measure of indulgence than he would have shown to an ordinary pupil of the Academy.[153] If we allow him credit for a sentiment in itself honorable, it can only be at the expense of his fitness for dealing with practical life; by admitting (to quote a remarkable phrase from one of his own dialogues) that “he tried to deal with individual men without knowing those rules of art or practice which bear on human affairs.[154]” Dionysius was not a common pupil, nor could Plato reasonably expect the like unmeasured docility from one for whose ear so many hostile influences were competing. Nor were Plato and Dionysius the only parties concerned. There was, besides, in the first place, Dion, whose whole position was at stake—next, and of yet greater moment, the relief of the people of Syracuse and Sicily. For them, and on their behalf, Dion had been laboring with such zeal, that he had inspired Dionysius with readiness to execute the two best resolves which the situation admitted; resolves not only pregnant with benefit to the people, but also insuring the position of Dion—since if Dionysius had once entered upon this course of policy, Dion would have been essential to him as an auxiliary and man of execution.
It is by no means certain, indeed, that such schemes could have been successfully realized, even with full sincerity on the part of Dionysius, and the energy of Dion besides. With all governments, to do evil is easy—to effect beneficial change, difficult; and with a Grecian despot, this was true in a peculiar manner. Those great mercenary forces and other instruments, which had been strong as adamant for the oppressive rule of the elder Dionysius would have been found hardly manageable, perhaps even obstructive, if his son had tried to employ them for more liberal purposes. But still the experiment would have been tried, with a fair chance of success—if only Plato, during his short-lived spiritual authority at Syracuse, had measured more accurately the practical influence which a philosopher might reasonably hope to exercise over Dionysius. I make these remarks upon him with sincere regret; but I am much mistaken if he did not afterwards hear them in more poignant language from the banished Dion, upon whom the consequences of the mistake mainly fell.
Speedily did the atmosphere at Syracuse become overclouded. The conservative party—friends of the old despotism, with the veteran Philistus at their head—played their game far better than that of the reformers was played by Plato, or by Dion since the arrival of Plato. Philistus saw that Dion, as the man of strong patriotic impulses and of energetic execution, was the real enemy to be aimed at. He left no effort untried to calumniate Dion, and to set Dionysius against him. Whispers and misrepresentations from a thousand different quarters beset the ear of Dionysius, alarming him with the idea that Dion was usurping to himself the real authority in Syracuse, with the view of ultimately handing it over to the children of Aristomachê, and of reigning in their name. Plato had been brought thither (it was said) as an agent in the conspiracy, for the purpose of winning over Dionysius into idle speculations, enervating his active vigor, and ultimately setting him aside; in order that all serious political agency might fall into the hands of Dion.[155] These hostile intrigues were no secret to Plato himself, who, even shortly after his arrival, began to see evidence of their poisonous activity. He tried sincerely to counterwork them;[156] but unfortunately the language which he himself addressed to Dionysius was exactly such as to give them the best chance of success. When Dionysius recounted to Philistus or other courtiers, how Plato and Dion had humiliated him in his own eyes, and told him that he was unworthy to govern until he had undergone a thorough purification—he would be exhorted to resent it as presumption and insult; and would be assured that it could only arise from a design to dispossess him of his authority, in favor of Dion, or perhaps of the children of Aristomachê with Dion as regent.
It must not be forgotten that there was a real foundation for jealousy on the part of Dionysius towards Dion; who was not merely superior to him in age, in dignity, and in ability, but also personally haughty in his bearing, and rigid in his habits, while Dionysius relished conviviality and enjoyments. At first, this jealousy was prevented from breaking out—partly by the consciousness of Dionysius that he needed some one to lean upon—partly by what seems to have been great self-command on the part of Dion, and great care to carry with him the real mind and good will of Dionysius. Even from the beginning, the enemies of Dion were doubtless not sparing in their calumnies, to alienate Dionysius from him; and the wonder only is, how, in spite of such intrigues and in spite of the natural causes of jealousy, Dion could have implanted his political aspirations, and maintained his friendly influence over Dionysius until the arrival of Plato. After that event, the natural causes of antipathy tended to manifest themselves more and more powerfully, while the counteracting circumstances all disappeared.
Three important months thus passed away, during which those precious public inclinations, which Plato found instilled by Dion into the bosom of Dionysius, and which he might have fanned into life and action—to liberalize the government of Syracuse, and to restore the other free Grecian cities—disappeared never to return. In place of them, Dionysius imbibed an antipathy, more and more rancorous, against the friend and relative with whom these sentiments had originated. The charges against Dion, of conspiracy and dangerous designs, circulated by Philistus and his cabal, became more audacious than ever. At length in the fourth month, Dionysius resolved to get rid of him.
The proceedings of Dion being watched, a letter was detected which he had written to the Carthaginian commanders in Sicily (with whom the war still subsisted, though seemingly not in great activity), inviting them, if they sent any proposition for peace to Syracuse, to send it through him, as he would take care that it should be properly discussed. I have already stated, that even in the reign of the elder Dionysius, Dion had been the person to whom the negotiations with Carthage were habitually intrusted. Such a letter from him, as far as we make out from the general description, implied nothing like a treasonable purpose. But Dionysius, after taking counsel with Philistus, resolved to make use of it as a final pretext. Inviting Dion into the acropolis, under color of seeking to heal their growing differences,—and beginning to enter into an amicable conversation,—he conducted him unsuspectingly down to the adjacent harbor, where lay moored, close in shore, a boat with the rowers aboard, ready for starting. Dionysius then produced the intercepted letter, handed it to Dion, and accused him to his face of treason. The latter protested against the imputation, and eagerly sought to reply. But Dionysius stopped him from proceeding, insisted on his going aboard the boat, and ordered the rowers to carry him off forthwith to Italy.[157]
This abrupt and ignominious expulsion, of so great a person as Dion, caused as much consternation among his numerous friends, as triumph to Philistus and the partisans of the despotism. All consummation of the liberal projects conceived by Dion was now out of the question; not less from the incompetency of Dionysius to execute them alone, than from his indisposition to any such attempt. Aristomachê the sister, and Aretê the wife, of Dion (the latter half-sister of Dionysius himself), gave vent to their sorrow and indignation; while the political associates of Dion, and Plato beyond all others, trembled for their own personal safety. Among the mercenary soldiers, the name of Plato was particularly odious. Many persons instigated Dionysius to kill him, and rumors even gained footing that he had been killed, as the author of the whole confusion.[158] But the despot, having sent away the person whom he most hated and feared, was not disposed to do harm to any one else. While he calmed the anxieties of Aretê by affirming that the departure of her husband was not to be regarded as an exile, but only as a temporary separation, to allow time for abating the animosity which prevailed—he at the same time ordered two triremes to be fitted out, for sending to Dion his slaves and valuable property, and everything necessary to personal dignity as well as to his comfort. Towards Plato—who was naturally agitated in the extreme, thinking only of the readiest means to escape from so dangerous a situation—his manifestations were yet more remarkable. He soothed the philosopher’s apprehensions—entreated him to remain, in a manner gentle indeed but admitting no denial—and conveyed him at once into his own residence the acropolis, under color of doing him honor. From hence there was no possibility of escaping, and Plato remained there for some time. Dionysius treated him well, communicated with him freely and intimately, and proclaimed everywhere that they were on the best terms of friendship. What is yet more curious—he displayed the greatest anxiety to obtain the esteem and approbation of the sage, and to occupy a place in his mind higher than that accorded to Dion; shrinking nevertheless from philosophy, or the Platonic treatment and training, under the impression that there was a purpose to ensnare and paralyze him, under the auspices of Dion.[159] This is a strange account, given by Plato himself; but it reads like a real picture of a vain and weak prince, admiring the philosopher—coquetting with him, as it were—and anxious to captivate his approbation, so far as it could be done without submitting to the genuine Platonic discipline.
During this long and irksome detention, which probably made him fully sensible of the comparative comforts of Athenian liberty, Plato obtained from Dionysius one practical benefit. He prevailed upon him to establish friendly and hospitable relations with Archytas and the Tarentines, which to these latter was a real increase of security and convenience.[160] But in the point which he strove most earnestly to accomplish, he failed. Dionysius resisted all entreaties for the recall of Dion. Finding himself at length occupied with a war (whether the war with Carthage previously mentioned, or some other, we do not know), he consented to let Plato depart; agreeing to send for him again as soon as peace and leisure should return, and promising to recall Dion at the same time; upon which covenant, Plato, on his side, agreed to come back. After a certain interval, peace arrived, and Dionysius re-invited Plato; yet without recalling Dion—whom he required still to wait another year. But Plato, appealing to the terms of the covenant, refused to go without Dion. To himself personally, in spite of the celebrity which his known influence with Dionysius tended to confer, the voyage was nothing less than repugnant, for he had had sufficient experience of Syracuse and its despotism. Nor would he even listen to the request of Dion himself; who, partly in the view of promoting his own future restoration, earnestly exhorted him to go. Dionysius besieged Plato with solicitations to come,[161] promising that all which he might insist upon in favor of Dion should be granted, and putting in motion a second time Archytas and the Tarentines to prevail upon him. These men, through their companion and friend Archedemus, who came to Athens in a Syracusan trireme, assured Plato that Dionysius was now ardent in the study of philosophy, and had even made considerable progress in it. By their earnest entreaties, coupled with those of Dion, Plato was at length induced to go to Syracuse. He was received, as before, with signal tokens of honor. He was complimented with the privilege, enjoyed by no one else, of approaching the despot without having his person searched; and was affectionately welcomed by the female relatives of Dion. Yet this visit, prolonged much beyond what he himself wished, proved nothing but a second splendid captivity, as the companion of Dionysius in the acropolis at Ortygia.[162]
Dionysius the philosopher obtained abundance of flatterers—as his father Dionysius the poet had obtained before him—and was even emboldened to proclaim himself as the son of Apollo.[163] It is possible that even an impuissant embrace of philosophy, on the part of so great a potentate, may have tended to exalt the reputation of philosophers in the contemporary world. Otherwise the dabblings of Dionysius would have merited no attention; though he seems to have been really a man of some literary talent[164]—retaining to the end a sincere admiration of Plato, and jealously pettish because he could not prevail upon Plato to admire him. But the second visit of Plato to him at Syracuse—very different from his first—presented no chance of benefit to the people of Syracuse, and only deserves notice as it bore upon the destiny of Dion. Here, unfortunately Plato could accomplish nothing; though his zeal on behalf of his friend was unwearied. Dionysius broke all his promises of kind dealing, became more rancorous in his hatred, impatient of the respect which Dion enjoyed even as an exile, and fearful of the revenge which he might one day be able to exact.
When expelled from Syracuse, Dion had gone to Peloponnesus and Athens, where he had continued for some years to receive regular remittances of his property. But at length, even while Plato was residing at Syracuse, Dionysius thought fit to withhold one half of the property, on pretence of reserving it for Dion’s son. Presently he took steps yet more violent, threw off all disguise, sold the whole of Dion’s property, and appropriated or distributed among his friends the large proceeds, not less than one hundred talents.[165] Plato, who had the mortification to hear this intelligence while in the palace of Dionysius, was full of grief and displeasure. He implored permission to depart. But though the mind of Dionysius had now been thoroughly set against him by the multiplied insinuations of the calumniators,[166] it was not without difficulty and tiresome solicitations that he obtained permission; chiefly through the vehement remonstrances of Archytas and his companions, who represented to the despot that they had brought him to Syracuse, and that they were responsible for his safe return. The mercenaries of Dionysius were indeed so ill-disposed to Plato, that considerable precautions were required to bring him away in safety.[167]
It was in the spring of 360 B. C. that the philosopher appears to have returned to Peloponnesus from this, his second visit to the younger Dionysius, and third visit to Syracuse. At the Olympic festival of that year, he met Dion, to whom he recounted the recent proceedings of Dionysius.[168] Incensed at the seizure of the property, and hopeless of any permission to return, Dion was now meditating enforcement of his restoration at the point of the sword. But there occurred yet another insult on the part of Dionysius, which infused a more deadly exasperation into the quarrel. Aretê, wife of Dion and half-sister of Dionysius, had continued to reside at Syracuse ever since the exile of her husband. She formed a link between the two, the continuance of which Dionysius could no longer tolerate, in his present hatred towards Dion. Accordingly he took upon him to pronounce her divorced, and to remarry her, in spite of her own decided repugnance, with one of his friends named Timokrates.[169] To this he added another cruel injury, by intentionally corrupting and brutalizing Dion’s eldest son, a youth just reaching puberty.
Outraged thus in all the tenderest points, Dion took up with passionate resolution the design of avenging himself on Dionysius, and of emancipating Syracuse from despotism into liberty. During the greater part of his exile he had resided at Athens, in the house of his friend Kallippus, enjoying the society of Speusippus and other philosophers of the Academy, and the teaching of Plato himself when returned from Syracuse. Well supplied with money, and strict as to his own personal wants, he was able largely to indulge his liberal spirit towards many persons, and among the rest towards Plato, whom he assisted towards the expense of a choric exhibition at Athens.[170] Dion also visited Sparta and various other cities; enjoying a high reputation, and doing himself credit everywhere; a fact not unknown to Dionysius, and aggravating his displeasure. Yet Dion was long not without hope that that displeasure would mitigate, so as to allow of his return to Syracuse on friendly terms. Nor did he cherish any purposes of hostility, until the last proceedings with respect to his property and his wife at once cut off all hope and awakened vindictive sentiments.[171] He began therefore to lay a train for attacking Dionysius and enfranchising Syracuse by arms, invoking the countenance of Plato; who gave his approbation, yet not without mournful reserves; saying that he was now seventy years of age—that though he admitted the just wrongs of Dion and the bad conduct of Dionysius, armed conflict was nevertheless repugnant to his feelings, and he could anticipate little good from it—that he had labored long in vain to reconcile the two exasperated kinsmen, and could not now labor for any opposite end.[172]
But though Plato was lukewarm, his friends and pupils at the Academy cordially sympathized with Dion. Speusippus especially, the intimate friend and relative, having accompanied Plato to Syracuse, had communicated much with the population in the city, and gave encouraging reports of their readiness to aid Dion, even if he came with ever so small a force against Dionysius. Kallippus, with Eudemus (the friend of Aristotle), Timonides, and Miltas—all three members of the society at the Academy, and the last a prophet also—lent him aid and embarked in his enterprise. There were a numerous body of exiles from Syracuse, not less than one thousand altogether; with most of whom Dion opened communication, inviting their fellowship. He at the same time hired mercenary soldiers in small bands, keeping his measures as secret as he could.[173] Alkimenes, one of the leading Achæans in Peloponnesus, was warm in the cause (probably from sympathy with the Achæan colony Kroton, then under the dependence of Dionysius), conferring upon it additional dignity by his name and presence. A considerable quantity of spare arms, of every description, was got together, in order to supply new unarmed partisans on reaching Sicily. With all these aids Dion found himself in the island of Zakynthus, a little after Midsummer 357 B. C.; mustering eight hundred soldiers of tried experience and bravery, who had been directed to come thither silently and in small parties, without being informed whither they were going. A little squadron was prepared, of no more than five merchantmen, two of them vessels of thirty oars, with victuals adequate to the direct passage across the sea from Zakynthus to Syracuse; since the ordinary passage, across from Korkyra and along the Tarentine Gulf was impracticable, in the face of the maritime power of Dionysius.[174]
Such was the contemptible force with which Dion ventured to attack the greatest of all Grecian potentates in his own stronghold and island. Dionysius had now reigned as despot at Syracuse between ten and eleven years. Inferior as he personally was to his father, it does not seem that the Syracusan power had yet materially declined in his hands. We know little about the political facts of his reign; but the veteran Philistus, his chief adviser and officer, appears to have kept together the larger part of the great means bequeathed by the elder Dionysius. The disparity of force, therefore, between the assailant and the party assailed, was altogether extravagant. To Dion, personally, indeed, such disparity was a matter of indifference. To a man of his enthusiastic temperament, so great was the heroism and sublimity of the enterprise,—combining liberation of his country from a despot, with revenge for gross outrages to himself,—that he was satisfied if he could only land in Sicily with no matter how small a force, accounting it honor enough to perish in such a cause.[175] Such was the emphatic language of Dion, reported to us by Aristotle; who (being then among the pupils of Plato) may probably have heard it with his own ears. To impartial contemporary spectators, like Demosthenes, the attempt seemed hopeless.[176]
But the intelligent men of the Academy who accompanied Dion, would not have thrown their lives away in contemplation of a glorious martyrdom; nor were either they or he ignorant, that there existed circumstances, not striking the eye of the ordinary spectator, which materially weakened the great apparent security of Dionysius.
First, there was the pronounced and almost unanimous discontent of the people of Syracuse. Though prohibited from all public manifestations, they had been greatly agitated by the original project of Dion to grant liberty to the city—by the inclinations even of Dionysius himself towards the same end, so soon unhappily extinguished—by the dissembling language of Dionysius, the great position of Dion’s wife and sister, and the second coming of Plato, all of which favored the hope that Dion might be amicably recalled. At length such chance disappeared, when his property was confiscated and his wife re-married to another. But as his energetic character was well known, the Syracusans now both confidently expected, and ardently wished, that he would return by force, and help them to put down one who was alike his enemy and theirs. Speusippus, having accompanied Plato to Syracuse and mingled much with the people, brought back decisive testimonies of their disaffection towards Dionysius, and of their eager longing for relief by the hands of Dion. It would be sufficient (they said) if he even came alone; they would flock around him, and arm him at once with an adequate force.[177]
There were doubtless many other messages of similar tenor sent to Peloponnesus; and one Syracusan exile, Herakleides, was in himself a considerable force. Though a friend of Dion,[178] he had continued high in the service of Dionysius, until the second visit of Plato. At that time he was disgraced, and obliged to save his life by flight, on account of a mutiny among the mercenary troops, or rather of the veteran soldiers among them, whose pay Dionysius had cut down. The men so curtailed rose in arms, demanding continuance of the old pay; and when Dionysius shut the gates of the acropolis, refusing attention to their requisitions, they raised the furious barbaric pæan or war shout, and rushed up to scale the walls.[179] Terrible were the voices of these Gauls, Iberians, and Campanians, in the ears of Plato, who knew himself to be the object of their hatred, and who happened to be then in the garden of the acropolis. But Dionysius, no less terrified than Plato, appeased the mutiny, by conceding all that was asked, and even more. The blame of this misadventure was thrown upon Herakleides, towards whom Dionysius conducted himself with mingled injustice and treachery—according to the judgment both of Plato and of all around him.[180] As an exile, he brought word that Dionysius could not even rely upon the mercenary troops, whom he treated with a parsimony the more revolting as they contrasted it with the munificence of his father.[181] Herakleides was eager to coöperate in putting down the despotism at Syracuse. But he waited to equip a squadron of triremes, and was not ready so soon as Dion; perhaps intentionally, as the jealousy between the two soon broke out.[182]
The second source of weakness to Dionysius lay in his own character and habits. The commanding energy of the father, far from being of service to the son, had been combined with a jealousy which intentionally kept him down, and cramped his growth. He had always been weak, petty, destitute of courage or foresight, and unfit for a position like that which his father had acquired and maintained. His personal incompetency was recognized by all, and would probably have manifested itself even more conspicuously, had he not found a minister of so much ability, and so much devotion to the dynasty, as Philistus. But in addition to such known incompetency, he had contracted recently habits which inspired every one around him with contempt. He was perpetually intoxicated and plunged in dissipation. To put down such a chief, even though surrounded by walls, soldiers, and armed ships, appeared to Dion and his confidential companions an enterprise noway impracticable.[183]
Nevertheless, these causes of weakness were known only to close observers; while the great military force of Syracuse was obvious to the eyes of every one. When the soldiers, mustered by Dion at Zakynthus, were first informed that they were destined to strike straight across the sea against Syracuse, they shrank from the proposition as an act of insanity. They complained of their leaders for not having before told them what was projected; just as the Ten Thousand Greeks in the army of Cyrus, on reaching Tarsus, complained of Klearchus for having kept back the fact that they were marching against the Great King. It required all the eloquence of Dion, with his advanced age,[184] his dignified presence, and the quantity of gold and silver plate in his possession, to remove their apprehensions. How widely these apprehensions were felt, is shown by the circumstance, that out of one thousand Syracusan exiles, only twenty-five or thirty dared to join him.[185]
After a magnificent sacrifice to Apollo, and an ample banquet to the soldiers in the stadium at Zakynthus, Dion gave orders for embarkation in the ensuing morning. On that very night the moon was eclipsed. We have already seen what disastrous consequences turned upon the occurrence of this same phænomenon fifty-six years before, when Nikias was about to conduct the defeated Athenian fleet away from the harbor of Syracuse.[186] Under the existing apprehensions of Dion’s band, the eclipse might well have induced them to renounce the enterprise; and so it probably would, under a general like Nikias. But Dion had learnt astronomy; and what was of not less consequence, Miltas, the prophet of the expedition, besides his gift of prophecy, had received instruction in the Academy also. When the affrighted soldiers inquired what new resolution was to be adopted in consequence of so grave a sign from the gods, Miltas arose and assured them that they had mistaken the import of the sign, which promised them good fortune and victory. By the eclipse of the moon, the gods intimated that something very brilliant was about to be darkened over: now there was nothing in Greece so brilliant as the despotism of Dionysius at Syracuse; it was Dionysius who was about to suffer eclipse, to be brought on by the victory of Dion.[187] Reassured by such consoling words the soldiers got on board. They had good reason at first to believe that the favor of the gods waited upon them, for a gentle and steady Etesian breeze carried them across midsea without accident or suffering, in twelve days, from Zakynthus to Cape Pachynus, the south-eastern corner of Sicily and nearest to Syracuse. The pilot Protus, who had steered the course so as exactly to hit the cape, urgently recommended immediate disembarkation, without going farther along the south-western coast of the island; since stormy weather was commencing, which might hinder the fleet from keeping near the shore. But Dion was afraid of landing so near to the main force of the enemy. Accordingly, the squadron proceeded onward, but were driven by a violent wind away from Sicily towards the coast of Africa, narrowly escaping shipwreck. It was not without considerable hardship and danger that they got back to Sicily, after five days; touching the island at Herakleia Minoa westward of Agrigentum, within the Carthaginian supremacy. The Carthaginian governor of Minoa, Synalus (perhaps a Greek in the service of Carthage), was a personal acquaintance of Dion, and received him with all possible kindness; though knowing nothing beforehand of his approach, and at first resisting his landing through ignorance.
Thus was Dion, after ten years of exile, once more on Sicilian ground. The favorable predictions of Miltas had been completely realized. But even that prophet could hardly have been prepared for the wonderful tidings now heard, which ensured the success of the expedition. Dionysius had recently sailed from Syracuse to Italy, with a fleet of eighty triremes.[188] What induced him to commit so capital a mistake, we cannot make out; for Philistus was already with a fleet in the Gulf of Tarentum, waiting to intercept Dion, and supposing that the invading squadron would naturally sail along the coast of Italy to Syracuse, according to the practice almost universal in that day.[189] Philistus did not commit the same mistake as Nikias had made in reference to Gylippus,[190]—that of despising Dion because of the smallness of his force. He watched in the usual waters, and was only disappointed because Dion, venturing on the bold and unusual straight course, was greatly favored by wind and weather. But while Philistus watched the coast of Italy, it was natural that Dionysius himself should keep guard with his main force at Syracuse. The despot was fully aware of the disaffection which reigned in the town, and of the hopes excited by Dion’s project; which was generally well known, though no one could tell how or at what moment the deliverer might be expected. Suspicious now to a greater degree than ever, Dionysius had caused a fresh search to be made in the city for arms, and had taken away all that he could find.[191] We may be sure too that his regiment of habitual spies were more on the alert than ever, and that unusual rigor was the order of the day. Yet, at this critical juncture, he thought proper to quit Syracuse with a very large portion of his force, leaving the command to Timokrates, the husband of Dion’s late wife; and at this same critical juncture Dion arrived at Minoa.
Nothing could exceed the joy of the Dionian soldiers on hearing of the departure of Dionysius, which left Syracuse open and easy of access. Eager to avail themselves of the favorable instant, they called upon their leader to march thither without delay, repudiating even that measure of rest which he recommended after the fatigues of the voyage. Accordingly, Dion, after a short refreshment provided by Synalus—with whom he deposited his spare arms, to be transmitted to him when required—set forward on his march towards Syracuse. On entering the Agrigentine territory, he was joined by two hundred horsemen near Eknomon.[192] Farther on, while passing through Gela and Kamarina, many inhabitants of these towns, together with some neighboring Sikans and Sikels, swelled his band. Lastly, when he approached the Syracusan border, a considerable proportion of the rural population came to him also, though without arms; making the reinforcements which joined him altogether about five thousand men.[193] Having armed these volunteers in the best manner he could, Dion continued his progress as far as Akræ, where he made a short evening halt. From thence, receiving good news from Syracuse, he recommenced his march during the latter half of the night, hastening forward to the passage over the river Anapus; which he had the good fortune to occupy without any opposition, before daybreak.
Dion was now within no more than a mile and a quarter of the walls of Syracuse. The rising sun disclosed his army to the view of the Syracusan population, who were doubtless impatiently watching for him. He was seen offering sacrifice to the river Anapus, and putting up a solemn prayer to the god Helios, then just showing himself above the horizon. He wore the wreath habitual with those who were thus employed; while his soldiers, animated by the confident encouragement of the prophets, had taken wreaths also.[194] Elate and enthusiastic, they passed the Anapus (seemingly at the bridge which formed part of the Helorine way), advanced at a running pace across the low plain which divided the southern cliff of Epipolæ from the Great Harbor, and approached the gates of the quarter of Syracuse called Neapolis—the Temenitid Gates, near the chapel of Apollo Temenites.[195] Dion was at their head, in resplendent armor, with a body-guard near him composed of one hundred of his Peloponnesians. His brother Megaklês was on one side of him, his friend the Athenian Kallippus on the other; all three, and a large proportion of the soldiers also, still crowned with their sacrificial wreaths, as if marching in a joyous festival procession, with victory already assured.[196]
As yet Dion had not met with the smallest resistance. Timokrates (left at Syracuse with the large mercenary force as vicegerent), while he sent an express to apprise Dionysius, kept his chief hold on the two military positions or horns of the city; the island of Ortygia at one extremity, and Epipolæ with Euryalus on the other. It has already been mentioned that Epipolæ was a triangle slope, with walls bordering both the northern and southern cliffs, and forming an angle on the western apex, where stood the strong fort of Euryalus. Between Ortygia and Epipolæ lay the populous quarters of Syracuse, wherein the great body of citizens resided. As the disaffection of the Syracusans was well known, Timokrates thought it unsafe to go out of the city, and meet Dion on the road, for fear of revolt within. But he perhaps might have occupied the important bridge over the Anapus, had not a report reached him that Dion was directing his attack first against Leontini. Many of the Campanian mercenaries under the command of Timokrates, having properties in Leontini, immediately quitted Epipolæ to go thither and defend them.[197] This rumor—false, and perhaps intentionally spread by the invaders—not only carried off much of the garrison elsewhere, but also misled Timokrates; insomuch that Dion was allowed to make his night march, to reach the Anapus, and to find it unoccupied.
It was too late for Timokrates to resist, when the rising sun had once exhibited the army of Dion crossing the Anapus. The effect produced upon the Syracusans in the populous quarters was electric. They rose like one man to welcome their deliverer, and to put down the dynasty which had hung about their necks for forty-eight years. Such of the mercenaries of Dionysius as were in these central portions of the city were forced to seek shelter in Epipolæ, while his police and spies were pursued and seized, to undergo the full terrors of a popular vengeance.[198] Far from being able to go forth against Dion, Timokrates could not even curb the internal insurrection. So thoroughly was he intimidated by the reports of his terrified police, and by the violent and unanimous burst of wrath among a people whom every Dionysian partisan had long been accustomed to treat as disarmed slaves—that he did not think himself safe even in Epipolæ. But he could not find means of getting to Ortygia, since the intermediate city was in the hands of his enemies, while Dion and his troops were crossing the low plain between Epipolæ and the Great Harbor. It only remained for him therefore to evacuate Syracuse altogether, and to escape from Epipolæ either by the northern or the western side. To justify his hasty flight, he spread the most terrific reports respecting the army of Dion, and thus contributed still farther to paralyze the discouraged partisans of Dionysius.[199]
Already had Dion reached the Temenitid gate, where the principal citizens, clothed in their best attire, and the multitude pouring forth loud and joyous acclamations, were assembled to meet him. Halting at the gate, he caused his trumpet to sound, and entreated silence; after which he formally proclaimed, that he and his brother Megakles were come for the purpose of putting down the Dionysian despotism, and of giving liberty both to the Syracusans and the other Sicilian Greeks. The acclamations redoubled as he and his soldiers entered the city, first through Neapolis, next by the ascent up to Achradina; the main street of which (broad, continuous, and straight, as was rare in a Grecian city[200]) was decorated as on a day of jubilee, with victims under sacrifice to the gods, tables, and bowls of wine ready prepared for festival. As Dion advanced at the head of his soldiers through a lane formed in the midst of this crowd, from each side wreaths were cast upon him as upon an Olympic victor, and grateful prayers addressed to him, as it were to a god.[201] Every house was a scene of clamorous joy, in which men and women, freemen and slaves, took part alike; the outburst of feelings long compressed and relieved from the past despotism with its inquisitorial police and garrison.
It was not yet time for Dion to yield to these pleasing but passive impulses. Having infused courage into his soldiers as well as into the citizens by his triumphant procession through Achradina, he descended to the level ground in front of Ortygia. That strong hold was still occupied by the Dionysian garrison, whom he thus challenged to come forth and fight. But the flight of Timokrates had left them without orders, while the imposing demonstration and unanimous rising of the people in Achradina—which they must partly have witnessed from their walls, and partly learnt through fugitive spies and partisans—struck them with discouragement and terror; so that they were in no disposition to quit the shelter of their fortifications. Their backwardness was hailed as a confession of inferiority by the insurgent citizens, whom Dion now addressed as an assembly of freemen. Hard by, in front of the acropolis with its Pentapyla or five gates, there stood a lofty and magnificent sun-dial, erected by the elder Dionysius. Mounting on the top of this edifice, with the muniments of the despot on the one side and the now liberated Achradina on the other, Dion addressed[202] an animated harangue to the Syracusans around, exhorting them to strenuous efforts in defence of their newly acquired rights and liberties, and inviting them to elect generals for the command, in order to accomplish the total expulsion of the Dionysian garrison. The Syracusans, with unanimous acclamations, named Dion and his brother Megakles generals with full powers. But both the brothers insisted that colleagues should be elected along with them. Accordingly twenty other persons were chosen besides, ten of them being from that small band of Syracusan exiles who had joined at Zakynthus.
Such was the entry of Dion into Syracuse, on the third day[203] after his landing in Sicily; and such the first public act of renewed Syracusan freedom; the first after that fatal vote which, forty-eight years before, had elected the elder Dionysius general plenipotentiary, and placed in his hands the sword of state, without foresight of the consequences. In the hands of Dion, that sword was vigorously employed against the common enemy. He immediately attacked Epipolæ; and such was the consternation of the garrison left in it by the fugitive Timokrates, that they allowed him to acquire possession of it, together with the strong fort of Euryalus, which a little courage and devotion might long have defended. This acquisition, made suddenly in the tide of success on one side and discouragement on the other, was of supreme importance, and went far to determine the ultimate contest. It not only reduced the partisans of Dionysius within the limits of Ortygia, but also enabled Dion to set free many state prisoners,[204] who became ardent partisans of the revolution. Following up his success, he lost no time in taking measures against Ortygia. To shut it up completely on the land-side, he commenced the erection of a wall of blockade, reaching from the Great Harbor at one extremity, to the sea on the eastern side of the Portus Lakkius, at the other.[205] He at the same time provided arms as well as he could for the citizens, sending for those spare arms which he had deposited with Synalus at Minoa. It does not appear that the garrison of Ortygia made any sally to impede him; so that in the course of seven days, he had not only received his arms from Synalus, but had completed, in a rough way, all or most of the blockading cross-wall.[206]
At the end of these seven days, but not before (having been prevented by accident from receiving the express sent to him), Dionysius returned with his fleet to Ortygia.[207] Fatally indeed was his position changed. The islet was the only portion of the city which he possessed, and that too was shut up on the land-side by a blockading wall nearly completed. All the rest of the city was occupied by bitter enemies instead of by subjects. Leontini also, and probably many of his other dependencies out of Syracuse, had taken the opportunity of revolting.[208] Even with the large fleet which he had brought home, Dionysius did not think himself strong enough to face his enemies in the field, but resorted to stratagem. He first tried to open a private intrigue with Dion; who, however, refused to receive any separate propositions, and desired him to address them publicly to the freemen, citizens of Syracuse. Accordingly, he sent envoys tendering to the Syracusans what in the present day would be called a constitution. He demanded only moderate taxation, and moderate fulfilments of military service, subject to their own vote of consent. But the Syracusans laughed the offer to scorn, and Dion returned in their name the peremptory reply,—that no proposition from Dionysius could be received, short of total abdication; adding in his own name, that he would himself, on the score of kindred, procure for Dionysius, if he did abdicate, both security and other reasonable concessions. These terms Dionysius affected to approve, desiring that envoys might be sent to him in Ortygia to settle the details. Both Dion and the Syracusans eagerly caught at his offer, without for a moment questioning his sincerity. Some of the most eminent Syracusans, approved by Dion, were despatched as envoys to Dionysius. A general confidence prevailed, that the retirement of the despot was now assured; and the soldiers and citizens employed against him, full of joy and mutual congratulations, became negligent of their guard on the cross-wall of blockade; many of them even retiring to their houses in the city.
This was what Dionysius expected. Contriving to prolong the discussion, so as to detain the envoys in Ortygia all night, he ordered at daybreak a sudden sally of all his soldiers, whom he had previously stimulated both by wine and by immense promises in case of victory.[209] The sally was well-timed and at first completely successful. One half of Dion’s soldiers were encamped to guard the cross-wall (the other half being quartered in Achradina), together with a force of Syracusan citizens. But so little were they prepared for hostilities, that the assailants, rushing out with shouts and at a run, carried the wall at the first onset, slew the sentinels, and proceeded to demolish the wall (which was probably a rough and hasty structure) as well as to charge the troops on the outside of it. The Syracusans, surprised and terrified, fled with little or no resistance. Their flight partially disordered the stouter Dionian soldiers, who resisted bravely, but without having had time to form their regular array. Never was Dion more illustrious, both as an officer and as a soldier. He exerted himself to the utmost to form the troops, and to marshal them in ranks essential to the effective fighting of the Grecian hoplite. But his orders were unheard in the clamor, or disregarded in the confusion: his troops lost courage, the assailants gained ground, and the day seemed evidently going against him. Seeing that there was no other resource, he put himself at the head of his best and most attached soldiers, and threw himself, though now an elderly man, into the thickest of the fray. The struggle was the more violent, as it took place in a narrow space between the new blockading wall on one side, and the outer wall of Neapolis on the other. Both the armor and the person of Dion being conspicuous, he was known to enemies as well as friends, and the battle around him was among the most obstinate in Grecian history.[210] Darts rattled against both his shield and his helmet, while his shield was also pierced through by several spears which were kept from his body only by the breastplate. At length he was wounded through the right arm or hand, thrown on the ground, and in imminent danger of being made prisoner. But this forwardness on his part so stimulated the courage of his own troops, that they both rescued him, and made redoubled efforts against the enemy. Having named Timonides commander in his place, Dion with his disabled hand mounted on horseback, rode into Achradina, and led forth to the battle that portion of his troops which were there in garrison. These men, fresh and good soldiers, restored the battle. The Syracusans came back to the field, all joined in strenuous conflict, and the Dionysian assailants were at length again driven within the walls of Ortygia. The loss on both sides was severe; that of Dionysius eight hundred men; all of whom he caused to be picked up from the field (under a truce granted on his request by Dion), and buried with magnificent obsequies, as a means of popularizing himself with the survivors.[211]
When we consider how doubtful the issue of this battle had proved, it seems evident that had Timokrates maintained himself in Epipolæ, so as to enable Dionysius to remain master of Epipolæ as well as of Ortygia, the success of Dion’s whole enterprise in Syracuse would have been seriously endangered.
Great was the joy excited at Syracuse by the victory. The Syracusan people testified their gratitude to the Dionian soldiers by voting a golden wreath to the value of one hundred minæ; while these soldiers, charmed with the prowess of their general, voted a golden wreath to him. Dion immediately began the re-establishment of the damaged cross-wall, which he repaired, completed, and put under effective guard for the future.[212] Dionysius no longer tried to impede it by armed attack. But as he was still superior at sea, he transported parties across the harbor to ravage the country for provisions, and despatched vessels to bring in stores also by sea. His superiority at sea was presently lessened by the arrival of Herakleides from Peloponnesus,[213] with twenty triremes, three smaller vessels, and fifteen hundred soldiers. The Syracusans, now beginning to show themselves actively on shipboard, got together a tolerable naval force. All the docks and wharfs lay concentrated in and around Ortygia, within the grasp of Dionysius, who was master of the naval force belonging to the city. But it would seem that the crews of some of the ships (who were mostly native Syracusans,[214] with an intermixture of Athenians, doubtless of democratical sentiments) must have deserted from the despot to the people, carrying over their ships, since we presently find the Syracusans with a fleet of sixty triremes,[215] which they could hardly have acquired otherwise.
Dionysius was shortly afterwards reinforced by Philistus, who brought to Ortygia, not only his fleet from the Tarentine Gulf, but also a considerable regiment of cavalry. With these latter, and some other troops besides, Philistus undertook an expedition against the revolted Leontini. But though he made his way into the town by night, he was presently expelled by the defenders, seconded by reinforcements from Syracuse.[216]
To keep Ortygia provisioned, however, it was yet more indispensable for Philistus to maintain his superiority at sea against the growing naval power of the Syracusans, now commanded by Herakleides.[217] After several partial engagements, a final battle, desperate and decisive, at length took place between the two admirals. Both fleets were sixty triremes strong. At first Philistus, brave and forward, appeared likely to be victorious. But presently the fortune of the day turned against him. His ship was run ashore, and himself with most part of his fleet, overpowered by the enemy. To escape captivity, he stabbed himself. The wound however was not mortal; so that he fell alive, being now about seventy-eight years of age, into the hands of his enemies,—who stripped him naked, insulted him brutally, and at length cut off his head, after which they dragged his body by the leg through the streets of Syracuse.[218] Revolting as this treatment is, we must recollect that it was less horrible than that which the elder Dionysius had inflicted on the Rhegine general Phyton.
The last hopes of the Dionysian dynasty perished with Philistus, the ablest and most faithful of its servants. He had been an actor in its first day of usurpation—its eighteenth Brumaire: his timely, though miserable death, saved him from sharing in its last day of exile—its St. Helena.
Even after the previous victory of Dion, Dionysius had lost all chance of overcoming the Syracusans by force. But he had now farther lost, through the victory of Herakleides, his superiority at sea, and therefore his power even of maintaining himself permanently in Ortygia. The triumph of Dion seemed assured, and his enemy humbled in the dust. But though thus disarmed, Dionysius was still formidable by his means of raising intrigue and dissension in Syracuse. His ancient antipathy against Dion became more vehement than ever. Obliged to forego empire himself—yet resolved at any rate that Dion should be ruined along with him—he set on foot a tissue of base manœuvres availing himself of the fears and jealousies of the Syracusans, the rivalry of Herakleides, the defects of Dion, and what was more important than all—the relationship of Dion to the Dionysian dynasty.
Dion had displayed devoted courage, and merited the signal gratitude of the Syracusans. But he had been nursed in the despotism, of which his father had been one of the chief founders; he was attached by every tie of relationship to Dionysius, with whom his sister, his former wife, and his children, were still dwelling in the acropolis. The circumstances therefore were such as to suggest to the Syracusans apprehensions, noway unreasonable, that some private bargain might be made by Dion with the acropolis, and that the eminent services which he had just rendered might only be made the stepping-stone to a fresh despotism in his person. Such suspicions received much countenance from the infirmities of Dion, who combined, with a masculine and magnanimous character, manners so haughty as to be painfully felt even by his own companions. The friendly letters from Syracuse, written to Plato or to others at Athens (possibly those from Timonides to Speusippus) shortly after the victory, contained much complaint of the repulsive demeanor of Dion; which defect the philosopher exhorted his friend to amend.[219] All those, whom Dion’s arrogance offended, were confirmed in their suspicion of his despotic designs, and induced to turn for protection to his rival Herakleides. This latter—formerly general in the service of Dionysius, from whose displeasure he had only saved his life by flight—had been unable or unwilling to coöperate with Dion in his expedition from Zakynthus, but had since brought to the aid of the Syracusans a considerable force, including several armed ships. Though not present at the first entry into Syracuse, nor arriving until Ortygia had already been placed under blockade, Herakleides was esteemed the equal of Dion in abilities and in military efficiency; while with regard to ulterior designs, he had the prodigious advantage of being free from connection with the despotism and of raising no mistrust. Moreover his manners were not only popular, but according to Plutarch,[220] more than popular—smooth, insidious, and dexterous in criminatory speech, for the ruin of rivals and for his own exaltation.
As the contest presently came to be carried on rather at sea than on land, the equipment of a fleet became indispensable; so that Herakleides, who had brought the greatest number of triremes, naturally rose in importance. Shortly after his arrival, the Syracusan assembly passed a vote to appoint him admiral. But Dion, who seems only to have heard of this vote after it had passed, protested against it as derogating from the full powers which the Syracusans had by their former vote conferred upon himself. Accordingly the people, though with reluctance, cancelled their vote, and deposed Herakleides. Having then gently rebuked Herakleides for raising discord at a season when the common enemy was still dangerous, Dion convened another assembly; wherein he proposed, from himself, the appointment of Herakleides as admiral, with a guard equal to his own.[221] The right of nomination thus assumed displeased the Syracusans, humiliated Herakleides, and exasperated his partisans as well as the fleet which he commanded. It gave him power—together with provocation to employ that power for the ruin of Dion; who thus laid himself doubly open to genuine mistrust from some, and to intentional calumny from others.
It is necessary to understand this situation, in order to appreciate the means afforded to Dionysius for personal intrigue directed against Dion. Though the vast majority of Syracusans were hostile to Dionysius, yet there were among them many individuals connected with those serving under him in Ortygia, and capable of being put in motion to promote his views. Shortly after the complete defeat of his sally, he renewed his solicitations for peace; to which Dion returned the peremptory answer, that no peace could be concluded until Dionysius abdicated and retired. Next, Dionysius sent out heralds from Ortygia with letters addressed to Dion from his female relatives. All these letters were full of complaints of the misery endured by these poor women; together with prayers that he would relax in his hostility. To avert suspicion, Dion caused the letters to be opened and read publicly before the Syracusan assembly; but their tenor was such, that suspicion, whether expressed or not, unavoidably arose, as to the effect on Dion’s sympathies. One letter there was, bearing on its superscription the words “Hipparinus (the son of Dion) to his father.” At first many persons present refused to take cognizance of a communication so strictly private; but Dion insisted, and the letter was publicly read. It proved to come, not from the youthful Hipparinus, but from Dionysius himself, and was insidiously worded for the purpose of discrediting Dion in the minds of the Syracusans. It began by reminding him of the long service which he had rendered to the despotism. It implored him not to bury that great power, as well as his own relatives, in one common ruin, for the sake of a people who would turn round and sting him, so soon as he had given them freedom. It offered, on the part of Dionysius himself, immediate retirement, provided Dion would consent to take his place. But it threatened, if Dion refused, the sharpest tortures against his female relatives and his son.[222]
This letter, well-turned as a composition for its own purpose, was met by indignant refusal and protestation on the part of Dion. Without doubt his refusal would be received with cheers by the assembly; but the letter did not the less instil its intended poison into their minds. Plutarch displays[223] (in my judgment) no great knowledge of human nature, when he complains of the Syracusans for suffering the letter to impress them with suspicions of Dion, instead of admiring his magnanimous resistance to such touching appeals. It was precisely the magnanimity required for the situation, which made them mistrustful. Who could assure them that such a feeling, to the requisite pitch, was to be found in the bosom of Dion? or who could foretel which, among painfully conflicting sentiments, would determine his conduct? The position of Dion forbade the possibility of his obtaining full confidence. Moreover his enemies, not content with inflaming the real causes of mistrust, fabricated gross falsehoods against him as well as against the mercenaries under his command. A Syracusan named Sôsis, brother to one of the guards of Dionysius, made a violent speech in the Syracusan assembly, warning his countrymen to beware of Dion, lest they should find themselves saddled with a strict and sober despot in place of one who was always intoxicated. On the next day Sôsis appeared in the Assembly with a wound on the head, which he said that some of the soldiers of Dion had inflicted upon him in revenge for his speech. Many persons present, believing the story, warmly espoused his cause; while Dion had great difficulty in repelling the allegation, and in obtaining time for the investigation of its truth. On inquiry, it was discovered that the wound was a superficial cut inflicted by Sôsis himself with a razor, and that the whole tale was an infamous calumny which he had been bribed to propagate.[224] In this particular instance, it was found practicable to convict the delinquent of shameless falsehood. But there were numerous other attacks and perversions less tangible, generated by the same hostile interests and tending towards the same end. Every day the suspicion and unfriendly sentiment of the Syracusans, towards Dion and his soldiers, became more imbittered.
The naval victory gained by Herakleides and the Syracusan fleet over Philistus, exalting both the spirit of the Syracusans and the glory of the admiral, still further lowered the influence of Dion. The belief gained ground that even without him and his soldiers, the Syracusans could defend themselves, and gain possession of Ortygia. It was now that the defeated Dionysius sent from thence a fresh embassy to Dion, offering to surrender to him the place with its garrison, magazine of arms, and treasure equivalent to five months’ full pay—on condition of being allowed to retire to Italy, and enjoy the revenues of a large and productive portion (called Gyarta) of the Syracusan territory. Dion again refused to reply, desiring him to address the Syracusan public yet advising them to accept the terms.[225] Under the existing mistrust towards Dion, this advice was interpreted as concealing an intended collusion between him and Dionysius. Herakleides promised, that if the war were prosecuted, he would keep Ortygia blocked up until it was surrendered at discretion with all in it as prisoners. But in spite of his promise, Dionysius contrived to elude his vigilance and sail off to Lokri in Italy, with many companions and much property, leaving Ortygia in command of his eldest son Apollokrates.
Though the blockade was immediately resumed and rendered stricter than before, yet this escape of the despot brought considerable discredit on Herakleides. Probably the Dionian partisans were not sparing in their reproach. To create for himself fresh popularity, Herakleides warmly espoused the proposition of a citizen named Hippo, for a fresh division of landed property; a proposition, which, considering the sweeping alteration of landed property made by the Dionysian dynasty, we may well conceive to have been recommended upon specious grounds of retributive justice, as well as upon the necessity of providing for poor citizens. Dion opposed the motion strenuously, but was outvoted. Other suggestions also, yet more repugnant to him, and even pointed directly against him, were adopted. Lastly, Herakleides, enlarging upon his insupportable arrogance, prevailed upon the people to decree that new generals should be appointed, and that the pay due to the Dionian soldiers, now forming a large arrear, should not be liquidated out of the public purse.[226]
It was towards midsummer that Dion was thus divested of his command, about nine months after his arrival at Syracuse.[227] Twenty-five new generals were named, of whom Herakleides was one.
The measure, scandalously ungrateful and unjust, whereby the soldiers were deprived of the pay due to them, was dictated by pure antipathy against Dion: for it does not seem to have been applied to those soldiers who had come with Herakleides; moreover the new generals sent private messages to the Dionian soldiers, inviting them to desert their leader and join the Syracusans, in which case the grant of citizenship was promised to them.[228] Had the soldiers complied, it is obvious, that either the pay due, or some equivalent, must have been assigned to satisfy them. But one and all of them scorned the invitation, adhering to Dion with unshaken fidelity. The purpose of Herakleides was, to expel him alone. This however was prevented by the temper of the soldiers; who, indignant at the treacherous ingratitude of the Syracusans, instigated Dion to take a legitimate revenge upon them, and demanded only to be led to the assault. Refusing to employ force, Dion calmed their excitement, and put himself at their head to conduct them out of the city; not without remonstrances addressed to the generals and the people of Syracuse upon their proceedings, imprudent as well as wicked, while the enemy were still masters of Ortygia. Nevertheless, the new generals, chosen as the most violent enemies of Dion, not only turned a deaf ear to his appeal, but inflamed the antipathies of the people, and spurred them on to attack the soldiers on their march out of Syracuse. Their attack, though repeated more than once, was vigorously repulsed by the soldiers—excellent troops, three thousand in number; while Dion, anxious to ensure their safety, and to avoid bloodshed on both sides, confined himself strictly to the defensive. He forbade all pursuit, giving up the prisoners without ransom as well as the bodies of the slain for burial.[229]
In this guise Dion arrived at Leontini, where he found the warmest sympathy towards himself, with indignant disgust at the behavior of the Syracusans. Allied with the newly-enfranchised Syracuse against the Dionysian dynasty, the Leontines not only received the soldiers of Dion into their citizenship, and voted to them a positive remuneration, but sent an embassy to Syracuse insisting that justice should be done to them. The Syracusans, on their side, sent envoys to Leontini, to accuse Dion before an assembly of all the allies there convoked. Who these allies were, our defective information does not enable us to say. Their sentence went in favor of Dion and against the Syracusans; who nevertheless stood out obstinately, refusing all justice or reparation,[230] and fancying themselves competent to reduce Ortygia without Dion’s assistance—since the provisions therein were exhausted, and the garrison was already suffering from famine. Despairing of reinforcement, Apollokrates had already resolved to send envoys and propose a capitulation, when Nypsius, a Neapolitan officer, despatched by Dionysius from Lokri, had the good fortune to reach Ortygia at the head of a reinforcing fleet, convoying numerous transports with an abundant stock of provisions. There was now no farther talk of surrender. The garrison of Ortygia was reinforced to ten thousand mercenary troops of considerable merit, and well provisioned for some time.[231]
The Syracusan admirals, either from carelessness or ill-fortune, had not been able to prevent the entry of Nypsius. But they made a sudden attack upon him while his fleet were in the harbor, and while the crews, thinking themselves safe from an enemy, were interchanging salutations or aiding to disembark the stores. This attack was well-timed and successful. Several of the triremes of Nypsius were ruined—others were towed off as prizes, while the victory, gained by Herakleides without Dion, provoked extravagant joy throughout Syracuse. In the belief that Ortygia could not longer hold out, the citizens, the soldiers, and even the generals, gave loose to mad revelry and intoxication, continued into the ensuing night. Nypsius, an able officer, watched his opportunity, and made a vigorous night-sally. His troops, issuing forth in good order, planted their scaling-ladders, mounted the blockading wall, and slew the sleeping or drunken sentinels without any resistance. Master of this important work, Nypsius employed a part of his men to pull it down, while he pushed the rest forward against the city. At daybreak the affrighted Syracusans saw themselves vigorously attacked even in their own stronghold, when neither generals nor citizens were at all prepared to resist. The troops of Nypsius first forced their way into Neapolis, which lay the nearest to the wall of Ortygia; next into Tycha, the other fortified suburb. Over these they ranged victorious, vanquishing all the detached parties of Syracusans which could be opposed to them. The streets became a scene of bloodshed—the houses of plunder; for as Dionysius had now given up the idea of again permanently ruling at Syracuse, his troops thought of little else except satiating the revenge of their master and their own rapacity. The soldiers of Nypsius stripped the private dwellings in the town, taking away not only the property, but also the women and children, as booty into Ortygia. At last (it appears) they got also into Achradina, the largest and most populous portion of Syracuse. Here the same scene of pillage, destruction, and bloodshed, was continued throughout the whole day, and on a still larger scale; with just enough resistance to pique the fury of the victors, without restraining their progress.
It soon became evident to Herakleides and his colleagues, as well as to the general body of citizens, that there was no hope of safety except in invoking the aid of Dion and his soldiers from Leontini. Yet the appeal to one whom they not only hated and feared, but had ignominiously maltreated, was something so intolerable, that for a long time no one would speak out to propose what every man had in his mind. At length some of the allies present, less concerned in the political parties of the city, ventured to broach the proposition, which ran from man to man, and was adopted under a press of mingled and opposite emotions. Accordingly two officers of the allies, and five Syracusan horsemen set off at full speed to Leontini, to implore the instant presence of Dion. Reaching the place towards evening, they encountered Dion himself immediately on dismounting, and described to him the miserable scenes now going on at Syracuse. Their tears and distress brought around them a crowd of hearers, Leontines as well as Peloponnesians; and a general assembly was speedily convened, before which Dion exhorted them to tell their story. They described, in the tone of men whose all was at stake, the actual sufferings and the impending total ruin of the city; entreating oblivion for their past misdeeds, which were already but too cruelly expiated.
Their discourse, profoundly touching to the audience, was heard in silence. Every one waited for Dion to begin, and to determine the fate of Syracuse. He rose to speak; but for a time tears checked his utterance, while his soldiers around cheered him with encouraging sympathy. At length he found voice to say, “I have convened you, Peloponnesians and allies, to deliberate about your own conduct. For me, deliberation would be a disgrace, while Syracuse is in the hands of the destroyer. If I cannot save my country, I shall go and bury myself in its flaming ruins. For you, if, in spite of what has happened, you still choose to assist us, misguided and unhappy Syracusans, we shall owe it to you that we still continue a city. But if, in disdainful sense of wrong endured, you shall leave us to our fate, I here thank you for all your past valor and attachment to me, praying that the gods may reward you for it. Remember Dion, as one who neither deserted you when you were wronged, nor his own fellow-citizens when they were in misery.”
This address, so replete with pathos and dignity, went home to the hearts of the audience, filling them with passionate emotion and eagerness to follow him. Universal shouts called upon him to put himself at their head instantly and march to Syracuse; while the envoys present fell upon his neck, invoking blessings both upon him and upon the soldiers. As soon as the excitement had subsided, Dion gave orders that every man should take his evening meal forthwith, and return in arms to the spot, prepared for a night-march to Syracuse.
By daybreak, Dion and his band were within a few miles of the northern wall of Epipolæ. Messengers from Syracuse here met him, inducing him to slacken his march and proceed with caution. Herakleides and the other generals had sent a message forbidding his nearer approach, with notice that the gates would be closed against him; yet at the same time, counter-messages arrived from many eminent citizens, entreating him to persevere, and promising him both admittance and support. Nypsius, having permitted his troops to pillage and destroy in Syracuse throughout the preceding day, had thought it prudent to withdraw them back into Ortygia for the night. His retreat raised the courage of Herakleides and his colleagues; who, fancying that the attack was now over, repented of the invitation which they had permitted to be sent to Dion. Under this impression they despatched to him the second message of exclusion; keeping guard at the gate in the northern wall to make their threat good. But the events of the next morning speedily undeceived them. Nypsius renewed his attack with greater ferocity than before, completed the demolition of the wall of blockade before Ortygia, and let loose his soldiers with merciless hand throughout all the streets of Syracuse. There was on this day less of pillage, but more of wholesale slaughter. Men, women, and children perished indiscriminately, and nothing was thought of by these barbarians except to make Syracuse a heap of ruins and dead bodies. To accelerate the process, and to forestall Dion’s arrival, which they fully expected—they set fire to the city in several places, with torches and fire-bearing arrows. The miserable inhabitants knew not where to flee, to escape the flames within their houses, or the sword without. The streets were strewed with corpses, while the fire gained ground perpetually, threatening to spread over the greater part of the city. Under such terrible circumstances, neither Herakleides, himself wounded, nor the other generals, could hold out any longer against the admission of Dion; to whom even the brother and uncle of Herakleides were sent, with pressing entreaties to accelerate his march, since the smallest delay would occasion ruin to Syracuse.[232]
Dion was about seven miles from the gates when these last cries of distress reached him. Immediately hurrying forward his soldiers, whose ardor was not inferior to his own, at a running pace, he reached speedily the gates called Hexapyla, in the northern wall of Epipolæ. When once within these gates, he halted in an interior area called the Hekatompedon.[233] His light-armed were sent forward at once to arrest the destroying enemy, while he kept back the hoplites until he could form them into separate columns under proper captains, along with the citizens who crowded round him with demonstrations of great reverence. He distributed them so as to enter the interior portion of Syracuse, and attack the troops of Nypsius, on several points at once.[234] Being now within the exterior fortification formed by the wall of Epipolæ, there lay before him the tripartite interior city—Tycha, Neapolis, Achradina. Each of these parts had its separate fortification; between Tycha and Neapolis lay an unfortified space, but each of them joined on to Achradina, the western wall of which formed their eastern wall. It is probable that these interior fortifications had been partially neglected since the construction of the outer walls along Epipolæ, which comprised them all within, and formed the principal defence against a foreign enemy. Moreover the troops of Nypsius, having been masters of the three towns, and roving as destroyers around them, for several hours, had doubtless broken down the gates and in other ways weakened the defences. The scene was frightful, and the ways everywhere impeded by flame and smoke, by falling houses and fragments, and by the numbers who lay massacred around. It was amidst such horrors that Dion and his soldiers found themselves—while penetrating in different divisions at once into Neapolis, Tycha, and Achradina.
His task would probably have been difficult, had Nypsius been able to control the troops under his command, in themselves brave and good. But these troops had been for some hours dispersed throughout the streets, satiating their licentious and murderous passions, and destroying a town which Dionysius now no longer expected to retain. Recalling as many soldiers as he could from this brutal disorder, Nypsius marshalled them along the interior fortification, occupying the entrances and exposed points where Dion would seek to penetrate into the city.[235] The battle was thus not continuous, but fought between detached parties at separate openings, often very narrow, and on ground sometimes difficult to surmount, amidst the conflagration blazing everywhere around.[236] Disorganized by pillage, the troops of Nypsius could oppose no long resistance to the forward advance of Dion, with soldiers full of ardor and with the Syracusans around him stimulated by despair. Nypsius was overpowered, compelled to abandon his line of defence, and to retreat with his troops into Ortygia, which the greater number of them reached in safety. Dion and his victorious troops, after having forced the entrance into the city, did not attempt to pursue them. The first and most pressing necessity was to extinguish the flames; but no inconsiderable number of the soldiers of Nypsius were found dispersed through the streets and houses, and slain while actually carrying off plunder on their shoulders. Long after the town was cleared of enemies, however, all hands within it were employed in stopping the conflagration; a task in which they hardly succeeded, even by unremitting efforts throughout the day and the following night.[237]
On the morrow Syracuse was another city; disfigured by the desolating trace of flame and of the hostile soldiery, yet still refreshed in the hearts of its citizens, who felt that they had escaped much worse; and above all, penetrated by a renewed political spirit, and a deep sense of repentant gratitude towards Dion. All those generals, who had been chosen at the last election from their intense opposition to him, fled forthwith; except Herakleides and Theodotes. These two men were his most violent and dangerous enemies; yet it appears that they knew his character better than their colleagues, and therefore did not hesitate to throw themselves upon his mercy. They surrendered, confessed their guilt, and implored his forgiveness. His magnanimity (they said) would derive a new lustre, if he now rose superior to his just resentment over misguided rivals, who stood before him humbled and ashamed of their former opposition, entreating him to deal with them better than they had dealt with him.
If Dion had put their request to the vote, it would have been refused by a large majority. His soldiers, recently defrauded of their pay, were yet burning with indignation against the authors of such an injustice. His friends, reminding him of the bitter and unscrupulous attacks which he as well as they had experienced from Herakleides, exhorted him to purge the city of one who abused the popular forms to purposes hardly less mischievous than despotism itself. The life of Herakleides now hung upon a thread. Without pronouncing any decided opinion, Dion had only to maintain an equivocal silence, and suffer the popular sentiment to manifest itself in a verdict invoked by one party, expected even by the opposite. The more was every one astonished when he took upon himself the responsibility of pardoning Herakleides; adding, by way of explanation and satisfaction[238] to his disappointed friends—
“Other generals have gone through most of their training with a view to arms and war. My long training in the Academy has been devoted to aid me in conquering anger, envy, and all malignant jealousies. To show that I have profited by such lessons, it is not enough that I do my duty towards my friends and towards honest men. The true test is, if, after being wronged, I show myself placable and gentle towards the wrong-doer. My wish is to prove myself superior to Herakleides more in goodness and justice, than in power and intelligence. Successes in war, even when achieved single-handed, are half owing to fortune. If Herakleides has been treacherous and wicked through envy, it is not for Dion to dishonor a virtuous life in obedience to angry sentiment. Nor is human wickedness, great as it often is, ever pushed to such an excess of stubborn brutality, as not to be amended by gentle and gracious treatment, from steady benefactors.”[239]
We may reasonably accept this as something near the genuine speech of Dion, reported by his companion Timonides, and thus passing into the biography of Plutarch. It lends a peculiar interest, as an exposition of motives, to the act which it accompanies. The sincerity of the exposition admits of no doubt, for all the ordinary motives of the case counselled an opposite conduct; and had Dion been in like manner at the feet of his rival, his life would assuredly not have been spared. He took pride (with a sentiment something like that of Kallikratidas[240] on liberating the prisoners taken at Methymna) in realizing by conspicuous act the lofty morality which he had imbibed from the Academy; the rather, as the case presented every temptation to depart from it Persuading himself that he could by an illustrious example put to shame and soften the mutual cruelties so frequent in Grecian party-warfare, and regarding the amnesty towards Herakleides as a proper sequel to the generous impulse which had led him to march from Leontini to Syracuse,—he probably gloried in both, more than in the victory itself. We shall presently have the pain of discovering that his anticipations were totally disappointed. And we may be sure that at the time, the judgment passed on his proceeding towards Herakleides was very different from what it now receives. Among his friends and soldiers, the generosity of the act would be forgotten in its imprudence. Among his enemies, it would excite surprise, perhaps admiration—yet few of them would be conciliated or converted into friends. In the bosom of Herakleides himself, the mere fact of owing his life to Dion would be a new and intolerable humiliation, which the Erinnys within would goad him on to avenge. Dion would be warned, by the criticism of his friends, as well as by the instinct of his soldiers, that in yielding to a magnanimous sentiment, he overlooked the reasonable consequences; and that Herakleides continuing at Syracuse would only be more dangerous both to him and them, than he had been before. Without taking his life, Dion might have required him to depart from Syracuse; which sentence, having regard to the practice of the time, would have been accounted generosity.
It was Dion’s next business to renew the wall of blockade constructed against Ortygia, and partially destroyed in the late sally of Nypsius. Every Syracusan citizen was directed to cut a stake, and deposit it near the spot; after which, during the ensuing night, the soldiers planted a stockade so as to restore the broken parts of the line. Protection being thus ensured to the city against Nypsius and his garrison, Dion proceeded to bury the numerous dead who had been slain in the sally, and to ransom the captives, no less than two thousand in number, who had been carried off into Ortygia.[241] A trophy, with sacrifice to the gods for the victory, was not forgotten.[242]
A public assembly was now held to elect new generals in place of those who had fled. Here a motion was made by Herakleides himself, that Dion should be chosen general with full powers both by land and sea. The motion was received with great favor by the principal citizens; but the poorer men were attached to Herakleides, especially the seamen; who preferred serving under his command, and loudly required that he should be named admiral, along with Dion as general on land. Forced to acquiesce in this nomination, Dion contented himself with insisting and obtaining, that the resolution, which had been previously adopted for redistributing lands and houses, should be rescinded.[243]
The position of affairs at Syracuse was now pregnant with mischief and quarrel. On land, Dion enjoyed a dictatorial authority;—at sea, Herakleides, his enemy not less than ever, was admiral, by separate and independent nomination. The undefined authority of Dion—exercised by one self-willed, though magnanimous, in spirit, and extremely repulsive in manner—was sure to become odious after the feelings arising out of the recent rescue had worn off; and abundant opening would thus be made for the opposition of Herakleides, often on just grounds. That officer indeed was little disposed to wait for just pretences. Conducting the Syracusan fleet to Messênê in order to carry on war against Dionysius at Lokri, he not only tried to raise the seamen in arms against Dion, by charging him with despotic designs, but even entered into a secret treaty with the common enemy Dionysius; through the intervention of the Spartan Pharax, who commanded the Dionysian troops. His intrigues being discovered, a violent opposition was raised against them by the leading Syracusan citizens. It would seem (as far as we can make out from the scanty information of Plutarch) that the military operations were frustrated, and that the armament was forced to return to Syracuse. Here again the quarrel was renewed—the seamen apparently standing with Herakleides, the principal citizens with Dion—and carried so far, that the city suffered not only from disturbance, but even from irregular supply of provisions.[244] Among the mortifications of Dion, not the least was that which he experienced from his own friends or soldiers, who reminded him of their warnings and predictions when he consented to spare Herakleides. Meanwhile Dionysius had sent into Sicily a body of troops under Pharax, who were encamped at Neapolis in the Agrigentine territory. In what scheme of operations this movement forms a part, we cannot make out; for Plutarch tells us nothing except what bears immediately on the quarrel between Dion and Herakleides. To attack Pharax, the forces of Syracuse were brought out; the fleet under Herakleides, the soldiers on land under Dion. The latter, though he thought it imprudent to fight, was constrained to hazard a battle by the insinuations of Herakleides and the clamor of the seamen; who accused him of intentionally eking out the war for the purpose of prolonging his own dictatorship. Dion accordingly attacked Pharax, but was repulsed. Yet the repulse was not a serious defeat, so that he was preparing to renew the attack, when he was apprised that Herakleides with the fleet had departed and were returning at their best speed to Syracuse; with the intention of seizing the city, and barring out Dion with his troops. Nothing but a rapid and decisive movement could defeat this scheme. Leaving the camp immediately with his best horsemen, Dion rode back to Syracuse as fast as possible; completing a distance of seven hundred stadia (about eighty-two miles) in a very short time, and forestalling the arrival of Herakleides.[245]
Thus disappointed and exposed, Herakleides found means to direct another manœuvre against Dion, through the medium of a Spartan named Gæsylus; who had been sent by the Spartans, informed of the dissensions in Syracuse, to offer himself (like Gylippus) for the command. Herakleides eagerly took advantage of the arrival of this officer; pressing the Syracusans to accept a Spartan as their commander-in-chief. But Dion replied that there were plenty of native Syracusans qualified for command; moreover, if a Spartan was required, he was himself a Spartan, by public grant. Gæsylus, having ascertained the state of affairs, had the virtue and prudence not merely to desist from his own pretensions, but also to employ his best efforts in reconciling Dion and Herakleides. Sensible that the wrong had been on the side of the latter, Gæsylus constrained him to bind himself by the strongest oaths to better conduct in future. He engaged his own guarantee for the observance of the covenant; but the better to ensure such observance, the greater part of the Syracusan fleet (the chief instrument of Herakleides) was disbanded, leaving only enough to keep Ortygia under blockade.[246]
The capture of that islet and fortress, now more strictly watched than ever, was approaching. What had become of Pharax, or why he did not advance, after the retreat of Dion, to harass the Syracusans and succor Ortygia—we know not. But no succor arrived; provisions grew scarce; and the garrison became so discontented, that Apollokrates the son of Dionysius could not hold out any longer. Accordingly, he capitulated with Dion; handing over to him Ortygia with its fort, arms, magazines and everything contained in it—except what he could carry away in five triremes. Aboard of these vessels, he placed his mother, his sisters, his immediate friends, and his chief valuables, leaving everything else behind for Dion and the Syracusans, who crowded to the beach in multitudes to see him depart. To them the moment was one of lively joy, and mutual self-congratulation—promising to commence a new era of freedom.[247]
On entering Ortygia, Dion saw for the first time after a separation of about twelve years, his sister Aristomachê, his wife Aretê, and family. The interview was one of the tenderest emotion and tears of delight to all. Aretê, having been made against her own consent the wife of Timokratês, was at first afraid to approach Dion. But he received and embraced her with unabated affection.[248] He conducted both her and his son away from the Dionysian acropolis, in which they had been living since his absence, into his own house; having himself resolved not to dwell in the acropolis, but to leave it as a public fort or edifice belonging to Syracuse. However, this renewal of his domestic happiness was shortly afterwards imbittered by the death of his son; who having imbibed from Dionysius drunken and dissolute habits, fell from the roof of the house, in a fit of intoxication or frenzy, and perished.[249]
Dion was now at the pinnacle of power as well as of glory. With means altogether disproportionate, he had achieved the expulsion of the greatest despot in Greece, even from an impregnable stronghold. He had combated danger and difficulty with conspicuous resolution, and had displayed almost chivalrous magnanimity. Had he “breathed out his soul”[250] at the instant of triumphant entry in Ortygia, the Academy would have been glorified by a pupil of first-rate and unsullied merit. But that cup of prosperity, which poisoned so many other eminent Greeks, had now the fatal effect of exaggerating all the worst of Dion’s qualities, and damping all the best.
Plutarch indeed boasts, and we may perfectly believe, that he maintained the simplicity of his table, his raiment, and his habits of life, completely unchanged—now that he had become master of Syracuse, and an object of admiration to all Greece. In this respect, Plato and the Academy had reason to be proud of their pupil.[251] But the public mistakes, now to be recounted, were not the less mischievous to his countrymen as well as to himself.
From the first moment of his entry into Syracuse from Peloponnesus, Dion had been suspected and accused of aiming at the expulsion of Dionysius, only in order to transfer the despotism to himself. His haughty and repulsive manners, raising against him personal antipathies everywhere, were cited as confirming the charge. Even at moments when Dion was laboring for the genuine good of the Syracusans, this suspicion had always more or less crossed his path; robbing him of well-merited gratitude—and at the same time discrediting his opponents, and the people of Syracuse, as guilty of mean jealousy towards a benefactor.
The time had now come when Dion was obliged to act in such a manner as either to confirm, or to belie, such unfavorable auguries. Unfortunately both his words and his deeds confirmed them in the strongest manner. The proud and repulsive external demeanor, for which he had always been notorious, was rather aggravated than softened. He took pride in showing, more plainly than ever, that he despised everything which looked like courting popularity.[252]
If the words and manner of Dion were thus significant, both what he did, and what he left undone, was more significant still. Of that great boon of freedom, which he had so loudly promised to the Syracusans, and which he had directed his herald to proclaim on first entering their walls, he conferred absolutely nothing. He retained his dictatorial power unabated, and his military force certainly without reduction, if not actually reinforced; for as Apollokrates did not convey away with him the soldiers in Ortygia, we may reasonably presume that a part of them at least remained to embrace the service of Dion. He preserved the acropolis and fortifications of Ortygia just as they were, only garrisoned by troops obeying his command instead of that of Dionysius. His victory made itself felt in abundant presents to his own friends and soldiers;[253] but to the people of Syracuse, it produced nothing better than a change of masters.
It was not indeed the plan of Dion to constitute a permanent despotism. He intended to establish himself king, but to grant to the Syracusans what in modern times would be called a constitution. Having imbibed from Plato and the Academy as well as from his own convictions and tastes, aversion to a pure democracy, he had resolved to introduce a Lacedæmonian scheme of mixed government, combining king, aristocracy, and people, under certain provisions and limitations. Of this general tenor are the recommendations addressed both to him, and to the Syracusans after his death, by Plato; who however seems to contemplate, along with the political scheme, a Lykurgean reform of manners and practice. To aid in framing and realizing his scheme, Dion sent to Corinth to invite counsellors and auxiliaries; for Corinth was suitable to his views, not simply as mother city of Syracuse, but also as a city thoroughly oligarchical.[254]
That these intentions on the part of Dion were sincere, we need not question. They had been originally conceived without any views of acquiring the first place for himself, during the life of the elder Dionysius, and were substantially the same as those which he had exhorted the younger Dionysius to realize, immediately after the death of the father. They are the same as he had intended to further by calling in Plato,—with what success, has been already recounted. But Dion made the fatal mistake of not remarking, that the state of things, both as to himself and as to Syracuse, was totally altered during the interval between 367 B. C. and 354 B. C. If at the former period, when the Dionysian dynasty was at the zenith of power, and Syracuse completely prostrated, the younger Dionysius could have been persuaded spontaneously and without contest or constraint to merge his own despotism in a more liberal system, even dictated by himself—it is certain that such a free, though moderate concession, would at first have provoked unbounded gratitude, and would have had a chance (though that is more doubtful) of giving long-continued satisfaction. But the situation was totally different in 354 B. C., when Dion, after the expulsion of Apollokrates, had become master in Ortygia; and it was his mistake that he still insisted on applying the old plans when they had become not merely unsuitable, but mischievous. Dion was not in the position of an established despot, who consents to renounce, for the public good, powers which every one knows he can retain, if he chooses; nor were the Syracusans any longer passive, prostrate, and hopeless. They had received a solemn promise of liberty, and had been thereby inflamed into vehement action, by Dion himself; who had been armed by them with delegated powers, for the special purpose of putting down Dionysius. That under these circumstances Dion, instead of laying down his trust, should constitute himself king—even limited king—and determine how much liberty he would consent to allot to the Syracusans who had appointed him—this was a proceeding which they could not but resent as a flagrant usurpation, and which he could only hope to maintain by force.
The real conduct of Dion, however, was worse even than this. He manifested no visible evidence of realizing even that fraction of popular liberty which had entered into his original scheme. What exact promises he made, we do not know. But he maintained his own power, the military force, and the despotic fortifications, provisionally undiminished. And who could tell how long he intended to maintain them? That he really had in his mind purposes such as Plato[255] gives him credit for, I believe to be true. But he took no practical step towards them. He had resolved to accomplish them, not through persuasion of the Syracusans, but through his own power. This was the excuse which he probably made to himself, and which pushed him down that inclined plane from whence there was afterwards no escape.
It was not likely that Dion’s conduct would pass without a protest. That protest came loudest from Herakleides; who, so long as Dion had been acting in the real service of Syracuse, had opposed him in a culpable and traitorous manner—and who now again found himself in opposition to Dion, when opposition had become the side of patriotism as well as of danger. Invited by Dion to attend the council, he declined, saying that he was now nothing more than a private citizen, and would attend the public assembly along with the rest; a hint which implied, plainly as well as reasonably, that Dion also ought to lay down his power, now that the common enemy was put down.[256] The surrender of Ortygia had produced strong excitement among the Syracusans. They were impatient to demolish the dangerous stronghold erected in that islet by the elder Dionysius; they both hoped and expected, moreover, to see the destruction of that splendid funeral monument which his son had built in his honor, and the urn with its ashes cast out. Now of these two measures, the first was one of pressing and undeniable necessity, which Dion ought to have consummated without a moment’s delay; the second was compliance with a popular antipathy at that time natural, which would have served as an evidence that the old despotism stood condemned. Yet Dion did neither. It was Herakleides who censured him, and moved for the demolition of the Dionysian Bastile; thus having the glory of attaching his name to the measure eagerly performed by Timoleon eleven years afterwards, the moment that he found himself master of Syracuse. Not only Dion did not originate the overthrow of this dangerous stronghold, but when Herakleides proposed it, he resisted him and prevented it from being done.[257] We shall find the same den serving for successive despots—preserved by Dion for them as well as for himself, and only removed by the real liberator Timoleon.
Herakleides gained extraordinary popularity among the Syracusans by his courageous and patriotic conduct. But Dion saw plainly that he could not, consistently with his own designs, permit such free opposition any longer. Many of his adherents, looking upon Herakleides as one who ought not to have been spared on the previous occasion, were ready to put him to death at any moment; being restrained only by a special prohibition which Dion now thought it time to remove. Accordingly, with his privity, they made their way into the house of Herakleides, and slew him.[258]
This dark deed abolished all remaining hope of obtaining Syracusan freedom from the hands of Dion, and stamped him as the mere successor of the Dionysian despotism. It was in vain that he attended the obsequies of Herakleides with his full military force, excusing his well-known crime to the people, on the plea, that Syracuse could never be at peace while two such rivals were both in active political life. Under the circumstances of the case, the remark was an insulting derision; though it might have been advanced with pertinence as a reason for sending Herakleides away, at the moment when he before spared him. Dion had now conferred upon his rival the melancholy honor of dying as a martyr to Syracusan freedom; and in that light he was bitterly mourned by the people. No man after this murder could think himself secure. Having once employed the soldiers as executioners of his own political antipathies, Dion proceeded to lend himself more and more to their exigencies. He provided for them pay and largesses, great in amount, first at the cost of his opponents in the city, next at that of his friends, until at length discontent became universal. Among the general body of the citizens, Dion became detested as a tyrant, and the more detested because he had presented himself as a liberator; while the soldiers also were in great part disaffected to him.[259]
The spies and police of the Dionysian dynasty not having been yet reëstablished, there was ample liberty at least of speech and censure; so that Dion was soon furnished with full indications of the sentiment entertained towards him. He became disquieted and irritable at this change of public feeling;[260] angry with the people, yet at the same time ashamed of himself. The murder of Herakleides sat heavy on his soul. The same man whom he had spared before when in the wrong, he had now slain when in the right. The maxims of the Academy which had imparted to him so much self-satisfaction in the former act, could hardly fail to occasion a proportionate sickness of self-reproach in the latter. Dion was not a mere power-seeker, nor prepared for all that endless apparatus of mistrustful precaution, indispensable to a Grecian despot. When told that his life was in danger, he replied that he would rather perish at once by the hands of the first assassin, than live in perpetual diffidence, towards friends as well as enemies.[261]
One thus too good for a despot, and yet unfit for a popular leader, could not remain long in the precarious position occupied by Dion. His intimate friend, the Athenian Kallippus, seeing that the man who could destroy him would become popular with the Syracusans as well as with a large portion of the soldiery, formed a conspiracy accordingly. He stood high in the confidence of Dion, had been his companion during his exile at Athens, had accompanied him to Sicily, and entered Syracuse by his side. But Plato, anxious for the credit of the Academy, is careful to inform us, that this inauspicious friendship arose, not out of fellowship in philosophy, but out of common hospitalities, and especially common initiation in the Eleusinian mysteries.[262] Brave and forward in battle, Kallippus enjoyed much credit with the soldiery. He was conveniently placed for tampering with them, and by a crafty stratagem, he even insured the unconscious connivance of Dion himself. Having learnt that plots were formed against his life, Dion talked about them to Kallippus, who offered himself to undertake the part of spy, and by simulated partnership to detect as well as to betray the conspirators. Under this confidence, Kallippus had full licence for carrying on his intrigues unimpeded, since Dion disregarded the many warnings which reached him.[263] Among the rumors raised out of Dion’s new position, and industriously circulated by Kallippus—one was, that he was about to call back Apollokrates, son of Dionysius, as his partner and successor to the despotism—as a substitute for the youthful son who had recently perished. By these and other reports, Dion became more and more discredited, while Kallippus secretly organized a wider circle of adherents. His plot however did not escape the penetration of Aristomachê and Aretê; who having, first addressed unavailing hints to Dion, at last took upon them to question Kallippus himself. The latter not only denied the charge, but even confirmed his denial, at their instance, by one of the most solemn and terrific oaths recognized in Grecian religion; going into the sacred grove of Demeter and Persephonê, touching the purple robe of the goddess, and taking in his hand a lighted torch.[264]
Inquiry being thus eluded, there came on presently the day of the Koreia:—the festival of these very Two goddesses in whose name and presence Kallippus had forsworn. This was the day which he had fixed for execution. The strong points of defence in Syracuse were confided beforehand to his principal adherents while his brother Philostrates[265] kept a trireme manned in the harbor ready for flight in case the scheme should miscarry. While Dion, taking no part in the festival, remained at home, Kallippus caused his house to be surrounded by confidential soldiers, and then sent into it a select company of Zakynthians, unarmed, as if for the purpose of addressing Dion on business. These men, young and of distinguished muscular strength, being admitted into the house, put aside or intimidated the slaves, none of whom manifested any zeal or attachment. They then made their way up to Dion’s apartment, and attempted to throw him down and strangle him. So strenuously did he resist, however, that they found it impossible to kill him without arms; which they were perplexed how to procure, being afraid to open the doors, lest aid might be introduced against them. At length one of their number descended to a back-door, and procured from a Syracusan without, named Lykon, a short sword; of the Laconian sort, and of peculiar workmanship. With this weapon they put Dion to death.[266] They then seized Aristomachê and Aretê, the sister and wife of Dion. These unfortunate women were cast into prison, where they were long detained, and where the latter was delivered of a posthumous son.
Thus perished Dion, having lived only about a year after his expulsion of the Dionysian dynasty from Syracuse—but a year too long for his own fame. Notwithstanding the events of those last months, there is no doubt that he was a man essentially differing from the class of Grecian despots: a man, not of aspirations purely personal, nor thirsting merely for multitudes of submissive subjects and a victorious army—but with large public-minded purposes attached as coördinate to his own ambitious views. He wished to perpetuate his name as the founder of a polity, cast in something of the general features of Sparta; which, while it did not shock Hellenic instincts, should reach farther than political institutions generally aim to do, so as to remodel the sentiments and habits of the citizens, on principles suited to philosophers like Plato. Brought up as Dion was from childhood at the court of the elder Dionysius, unused to that established legality, free speech, and habit of active citizenship, from whence a large portion of Hellenic virtue flowed—the wonder is how he acquired so much public conviction and true magnanimity of soul—not how he missed acquiring more. The influence of Plato during his youth stamped his mature character; but that influence (as Plato himself tells us) found a rare predisposition in the pupil. Still, Dion had no experience of the working of a free and popular government. The atmosphere in which his youth was passed was that of an energetic despotism; while the aspiration which he imbibed from Plato was, to restrain and regularize that despotism, and to administer to the people a certain dose of political liberty, yet reserving to himself the task of settling how much was good for them, and the power of preventing them from acquiring more.
How this project—the natural growth of Dion’s mind, for which his tastes and capacities were suited—was violently thrust aside through the alienated feelings of the younger Dionysius—has been already recounted. The position of Dion was now completely altered. He became a banished, ill-used man, stung with contemptuous antipathy against Dionysius, and eager to put down his despotism over Syracuse. Here were new motives apparently falling in with the old project. But the conditions of the problem had altogether changed. Dion could not overthrow Dionysius without “taking the Syracusan people into partnership” (to use the phrase of Herodotus[267] respecting the Athenian Kleisthenes)—without promising them full freedom, as an inducement for their hearty coöperation—without giving them arms, and awakening in them the stirring impulses of Grecian citizenship, all the more violent because they had been so long trodden down.[268] With these new allies he knew not how to deal. He had no experience of a free and jealous popular mind in persuasion, he was utterly unpractised: his manners were haughty and displeasing. Moreover, his kindred with the Dionysian family exposed him to antipathy from two different quarters. Like the Duke of Orleans (Égalité) at the end of 1792, in the first French Revolution—he was hated both by the royalists, because, though related to the reigning dynasty, he had taken an active part against it—and by sincere democrats, because they suspected him of a design to put himself in its place. To Dion, such coalition of antipathies was a serious hindrance; presenting a strong basis of support for all his rivals, especially for the unscrupulous Herakleides. The bad treatment which he underwent both from the Syracusans and from Herakleides, during the time when the officers of Dionysius still remained masters in Ortygia, has been already related. Dion however behaved, though not always with prudence, yet with so much generous energy against the common enemy, that he put down his rival, and maintained his ascendency unshaken, until the surrender of Ortygia.
That surrender brought his power to a maximum. It was the turning-point and crisis of his life. A splendid opportunity was now opened, of earning for himself fame and gratitude. He might have attached his name to an act as sublime and impressive as any in Grecian history, which, in an evil hour, he left to be performed in after days by Timoleon—the razing of the Dionysian stronghold, and the erection of courts of justice on its site. He might have taken the lead in organizing, under the discussion and consent of the people, a good and free government, which, more or less exempt from defect as it might have been, would at least have satisfied them, and would have spared Syracuse those ten years of suffering which intervened until Timoleon came to make the possibility a fact. Dion might have done all that Timoleon did—and might have done it more easily, since he was less embarrassed both by the other towns in Sicily and by the Carthaginians. Unfortunately he still thought himself strong enough to resume his original project. In spite of the spirit, kindled partly by himself, among the Syracusans—in spite of the repugnance, already unequivocally manifested, on the mere suspicion of his despotic designs—he fancied himself competent to treat the Syracusans as a tame and passive herd; to carve out for them just as much liberty as he thought right, and to require them to be satisfied with it; nay, even worse, to defer giving them any liberty at all, on the plea, or pretence, of full consultation with advisers of his own choice.
Through this deplorable mistake, alike mischievous to Syracuse and to himself, Dion made his government one of pure force. He placed himself in a groove wherein he was fatally condemned to move on from bad to worse, without possibility of amendment. He had already made a martyr of Herakleides, and he would have been compelled to make other martyrs besides, had his life continued. It is fortunate for his reputation that his career was arrested so early, before he had become bad enough to forfeit that sympathy and esteem with which the philosopher Plato still mourns his death, appeasing his own disappointment by throwing the blame of Dion’s failure on every one but Dion himself.
CHAPTER LXXXV.
SICILIAN AFFAIRS DOWN TO THE CLOSE OF THE EXPEDITION OF TIMOLEON. B. C. 353-336.
The assassination of Dion, as recounted in my last chapter, appears to have been skilfully planned and executed for the purpose of its contriver, the Athenian Kallippus. Succeeding at once to the command of the soldiers, among whom he had before been very popular,—and to the mastery of Ortygia,—he was practically supreme at Syracuse. We read in Cornelius Nepos, that after the assassination of Dion there was deep public sorrow, and a strong reaction in his favor, testified by splendid obsequies attended by the mass of the population.[269] But this statement is difficult to believe; not merely because Kallippus long remained undisturbed master, but because he also threw into prison the female relatives of Dion—his sister Aristomachê and his pregnant wife Aretê, avenging by such act of malignity the false oath which he had so lately been compelled to take, in order to satisfy their suspicions.[270] Aretê was delivered of a son in the prison. It would seem that these unhappy women were kept in confinement during all the time, more than a year, that Kallippus remained master. On his being deposed, they were released; when a Syracusan named Hiketas, a friend of the deceased Dion, affected to take them under his protection. After a short period of kind treatment, he put them on board a vessel to be sent to Peloponnesus, but caused them to be slain on the voyage, and their bodies to be sunk in the sea. To this cruel deed he is said to have been instigated by the enemies of Dion; and the act shows but too plainly how implacable those enemies were.[271]
How Kallippus maintained himself in Syracuse—by what support, or violences, or promises—and against what difficulties he had to contend—we are not permitted to know. He seems at first to have made promises of restoring liberty; and we are even told, that he addressed a public letter to his country, the city of Athens;[272] wherein he doubtless laid claim to the honors of tyrannicide; representing himself as the liberator of Syracuse. How this was received by the Athenian assembly, we are not informed. But to Plato and the frequenters of the Academy, the news of Dion’s death occasioned the most profound sorrow, as may still be read in the philosopher’s letters.
Kallippus maintained himself for a year in full splendor and dominion. Discontents had then grown up; and the friends of Dion—or perhaps the enemies of Kallippus assuming that name—showed themselves with force in Syracuse. However, Kallippus defeated them, and forced them to take refuge in Leontini;[273] of which town we presently find Hiketas despot. Encouraged probably by this success, Kallippus committed many enormities, and made himself so odious,[274] that the expelled Dionysian family began to conceive hopes of recovering their dominion. He had gone forth from Syracuse on an expedition against Katana; of which absence Hipparinus took advantage to effect his entry into Syracuse, at the head of a force sufficient, combined with popular discontent, to shut him out of the city. Kallippus speedily returned, but was defeated by Hipparinus, and compelled to content himself with the unprofitable exchange of Katana in place of Syracuse.[275]
Hipparinus and Nysæus were the two sons of Dionysius the elder, by Aristomachê, and were therefore nephews of Dion. Though Hipparinus probably became master of Ortygia, the strongest portion of Syracuse, yet it would appear that in the other portions of Syracuse there were opposing parties who contested his rule; first, the partisans of Dionysius the younger, and of his family—next, the mass who desired to get rid of both the families, and to establish a free popular constitution. Such is the state of facts which we gather from the letters of Plato.[276] But we are too destitute of memorials to make out anything distinct respecting the condition of Syracuse or of Sicily between 353 B. C. and 344 B. C.—from the death of Dion to the invitation sent to Corinth, which brought about the mission of Timoleon. We are assured generally that it was a period of intolerable conflicts, disorders, and suffering; that even the temples and tombs were neglected;[277] that the people were everywhere trampled down by despots and foreign mercenaries; that the despots were frequently overthrown by violence or treachery, yet only to be succeeded by others as bad or worse; that the multiplication of foreign soldiers, seldom regularly paid, spread pillage and violence everywhere.[278] The philosopher Plato—in a letter written about a year or more after the death of Dion (seemingly after the expulsion of Kallippus) and addressed to the surviving relatives and friends of the latter—draws a lamentable picture of the state both of Syracuse and Sicily. He goes so far as to say, that under the distraction and desolation which prevailed, the Hellenic race and language were likely to perish in the island, and give place to the Punic or Oscan.[279] He adjures the contending parties at Syracuse to avert this miserable issue by coming to a compromise, and by constituting a moderate and popular government,—yet with some rights reserved to the ruling families, among whom he desires to see a fraternal partnership established, tripartite in its character; including Dionysius the younger (now at Lokri)—Hipparinus son of the elder Dionysius—and the son of Dion. On the absolute necessity of such compromise and concord, to preserve both people and despots from one common ruin, Plato delivers the most pathetic admonitions. He recommends a triple coördinate kingship, passing by hereditary transmission in the families of the three persons just named; and including the presidency of religious ceremonies with an ample measure of dignity and veneration, but very little active political power. Advising that impartial arbitrators, respected by all, should be invoked to settle terms for the compromise, he earnestly implores each of the combatants to acquiesce peaceably in their adjudication.[280]
To Plato,—who saw before him the line double of Spartan kings, the only hereditary kings in Greece,—the proposition of three coördinate kingly families did not appear at all impracticable; nor indeed was it so, considering the small extent of political power allotted to them. But amidst the angry passions which then raged, and the mass of evil which had been done and suffered on all sides, it was not likely that any pacific arbitrator, of whatever position or character, would find a hearing, or would be enabled to effect any such salutary adjustment as had emanated from the Mantinean Dêmônax at Kyrênê—between the discontented Kyreneans and the dynasty of the Battiad princes.[281] Plato’s recommendation passed unheeded. He died in 348-347 B. C., without seeing any mitigation of those Sicilian calamities which saddened the last years of his long life. On the contrary, the condition of Syracuse grew worse instead of better. The younger Dionysius contrived to effect his return, expelling Hipparinus and Nysæus from Ortygia, and establishing himself there again as master. As he had a long train of past humiliation to avenge, his rule was of that oppressive character which the ancient proverb recognized as belonging to kings restored from exile.[282]
Of all these princes descended from the elder Dionysius, not one inherited the sobriety and temperance which had contributed so much to his success. All of them are said to have been of drunken and dissolute habits[283]—Dionysius the younger, and his son Apollokrates, as well as Hipparinus and Nysæus. Hipparinus was assassinated while in a fit of intoxication; so that Nysæus became the representative of this family, until he was expelled from Ortygia by the return of the younger Dionysius.
That prince, since his first expulsion from Syracuse, had chiefly resided at Lokri in Italy, of which city his mother Doris was a native. It has already been stated that the elder Dionysius had augmented and nursed up Lokri by every means in his power, as an appurtenance of his own dominion at Syracuse. He had added to its territory all the southernmost peninsula of Italy (comprehended within a line drawn from the Gulf of Terina to that of Skylletium), once belonging to Rhegium, Kaulonia, and Hipponium. But though the power of Lokri was thus increased, it had ceased to be a free city, being converted into a dependency of the Dionysian family.[284] As such, it became the residence of the second Dionysius, when he could no longer maintain himself in Syracuse. We know little of what he did; though we are told that he revived a portion of the dismantled city of Rhegium under the name of Phœbia.[285] Rhegium itself reappears shortly afterwards as a community under its own name, and was probably reconstituted at the complete downfall of the second Dionysius.
The season between 356-346 B. C., was one of great pressure and suffering for all the Italiot Greeks, arising from the increased power of the inland Lucanians and Bruttians. These Bruttians, who occupied the southernmost Calabria, were a fraction detached from the general body of Lucanians and self-emancipated; having consisted chiefly of indigenous rural serfs in the mountain communities, who threw off the sway of their Lucanian masters, and formed an independent aggregate for themselves. These men, especially in the energetic effort which marked their early independence, were formidable enemies of the Greeks on the coast, from Tarentum to the Sicilian strait; and more than a match even for the Spartans and Epirots invited over by the Greeks as auxiliaries.
It appears that the second Dionysius, when he retired to Lokri after the first loss of his power at Syracuse, soon found his rule unacceptable and his person unpopular. He maintained himself, seemingly from the beginning, by means of two distinct citadels in the town, with a standing army under the command of the Spartan Pharax, a man of profligacy and violence.[286] The conduct of Dionysius became at last so odious, that nothing short of extreme force could keep down the resentment of the citizens. We read that he was in the habit of practising the most licentious outrage towards the marriageable maidens of good family in Lokri. The detestation thus raised against him was repressed by his superior force—not, we may be sure, without numerous cruelties perpetrated against individual persons who stood on their defence—until the moment arrived when he and his son Apollokrates effected their second return to Ortygia. To ensure so important an acquisition, Dionysius diminished his military force at Lokri, where he at the same time left his wife, his two daughters, and his youthful son. But after his departure, the Lokrians rose in insurrection, overpowered the reduced garrison, and took captive these unfortunate members of his family. Upon their guiltless heads fell all the terrors of retaliation for the enormities of the despot. It was in vain that both Dionysius himself, and the Tarentines[287] supplicated permission to redeem the captives at the highest ransom. In vain was Lokri besieged, and its territory desolated. The Lokrians could neither be seduced by bribes, nor deterred by threats, from satiating the full extremity of vindictive fury. After multiplied cruelties and brutalities, the wife and family of Dionysius were at length relieved from farther suffering by being strangled.[288] With this revolting tragedy terminated the inauspicious marital connection begun between the elder Dionysius and the oligarchy of Lokri.
By the manner in which Dionysius exercised his power at Lokri, we may judge how he would behave at Syracuse. The Syracusans endured more evil than ever, without knowing where to look for help. Hiketas the Syracusan (once the friend of Dion, ultimately the murderer of the slain Dion’s widow and sister), had now established himself as despot at Leontini. To him they turned as an auxiliary, hoping thus to obtain force sufficient for the expulsion of Dionysius. Hiketas gladly accepted the proposition, with full purpose of reaping the reward of such expulsion, when achieved, for himself. Moreover, a formidable cloud was now gathering from the side of Carthage. What causes had rendered Carthage inactive for the last few years, while Sicily was so weak and disunited—we do not know; but she had now become once more aggressive, extending her alliances among the despots of the island, and pouring in a large force and fleet, so as to menace the independence both of Sicily and of Southern Italy.[289] The appearance of this new enemy drove the Syracusans to despair, and left them no hope of safety except in assistance from Corinth. To that city they sent a pathetic and urgent appeal, setting forth both the actual suffering and the approaching peril from without. And such indeed was the peril, that even to a calm observer, it might well seem as if the mournful prophecy of Plato was on the point of receiving fulfilment—Hellenism as well as freedom becoming extinct on the island.
To the invocation of Corinthian aid, Hiketas was a party; yet an unwilling party. He had made up his mind that for his purpose, it was better to join the Carthaginians, with whom he had already opened negotiations—and to employ their forces, first in expelling Dionysius, next in ruling Syracuse for himself. But these were schemes not to be yet divulged: accordingly, Hiketas affected to concur in the pressing entreaty sent by the Syracusans to Corinth, intending from the beginning to frustrate its success.[290] He expected indeed that the Corinthians would themselves decline compliance: for the enterprise proposed to them was full of difficulty; they had neither injury to avenge, nor profit to expect; while the force of sympathy, doubtless not inconsiderable, with a suffering colony, would probably be neutralized by the unsettled and degraded condition into which all Central Greece was now rapidly sinking, under the ambitious strides of Philip of Macedon.
The Syracusan envoys reached Corinth at a favorable moment. But it is melancholy to advert to the aggregate diminution of Grecian power, as compared with the time when (seventy years before) their forefathers had sent thither to solicit aid against the besieging armament of Athens; a time when Athens, Sparta, and Syracuse herself, were all in exuberant vigor as well as unimpaired freedom. However, the Corinthians happened at this juncture to have their hands as well as their minds tolerably free, so that the voice of genuine affliction, transmitted from the most esteemed of all their colonies, was heard with favor and sympathy. A decree was passed, heartily and unanimously, to grant the aid solicited.[291]
The next step was to choose a leader. But a leader was not easily found. The enterprise presented little temptation, with danger and difficulty abundant as well as certain. The hopeless discord of Syracuse for years past, was well known to all the leading Corinthian politicians or generals. Of all or most of these, the names were successively put up by the archons; but all with one accord declined. At length, while the archons hesitated whom to fix upon, an unknown voice in the crowd pronounced the name of Timoleon, son of Timodemus. The mover seemed prompted by divine inspiration;[292] so little obvious was the choice, and so preëminently excellent did it prove. Timoleon was named—without difficulty, and without much intention of doing him honor—to a post which all the other leading men declined.
Some points must be here noticed in the previous history of this remarkable man. He belonged to an illustrious family in Corinth, and was now of mature age—perhaps about fifty. He was distinguished no less for his courage than for the gentleness of his disposition. Little moved either by personal vanity or by ambition, he was devoted in his patriotism, and unreserved in his hatred of despots as well as of traitors.[293] The government of Corinth was, and always had been, oligarchical; but it was a regular, constitutional, oligarchy; while the Corinthian antipathy against despots was of old standing[294]—hardly less strong than that of democratical Athens. As a soldier in the ranks of Corinthian hoplites, the bravery of Timoleon, and his submission to discipline, were alike remarkable.
These points of his character stood out the more forcibly from contrast with his elder brother Timophanes; who possessed the soldierlike merits of bravery and energetic enterprise, but combined with them an unprincipled ambition, and an unscrupulous prosecution of selfish advancement at all cost to others. The military qualities of Timophanes, however, gained for him so much popularity, that he was placed high as an officer in the Corinthian service. Timoleon, animated with a full measure of brotherly attachment, not only tried to screen his defects as well as to set off his merits, but also incurred the greatest perils for the purpose of saving his life. In a battle against the Argeians and Kleonæans, Timophanes was commanding the cavalry, when his horse, being wounded, threw him on the ground, very near to the enemy. The remaining horsemen fled, leaving their commander to what seemed certain destruction; but Timoleon, who was serving among the hoplites, rushed singly forth from the ranks with his utmost speed, and covered Timophanes with his shield, when the enemy were just about to pierce him. He made head single-handed against them, warding off numerous spears and darts, and successfully protected his fallen brother until succor arrived; though at the cost of several wounds to himself.[295]
This act of generous devotion raised great admiration towards Timoleon. But it also procured sympathy for Timophanes, who less deserved it. The Corinthians had recently incurred great risk of seeing their city fall into the hands of their Athenian allies, who had laid a plan to seize it, but were disappointed through timely notice given at Corinth.[296] To arm the people being regarded as dangerous to the existing oligarchy,[297] it was judged expedient to equip a standing force of four hundred paid foreign soldiers, and establish them as a permanent garrison in the strong and lofty citadel. The command of this garrison, with the mastery of the fort, was intrusted to Timophanes. A worse choice could not have been made. The new commander—seconded not only by his regiment and his strong position, but also by some violent partisans whom he took into his pay and armed, among the poorer citizens—speedily stood forth as despot, taking the whole government into his own hands. He seized numbers of the chief citizens, probably all the members of the oligarchical councils who resisted his orders, and put them to death without even form of trial.[298] Now, when it was too late, the Corinthians repented of the mistaken vote which had raised up a new Periander among them. But to Timoleon, the crimes of his brother occasioned an agony of shame and sorrow. He first went up to the acropolis[299] to remonstrate with him; conjuring him emphatically, by the most sacred motives public as well as private, to renounce his disastrous projects. Timophanes repudiated the appeal with contempt. Timoleon had now to choose between his brother and his country. Again he went to the acropolis, accompanied by Æschylus, brother of the wife of Timophanes—by the prophet Orthagoras, his intimate friend—perhaps also by another friend named Telekleides. Admitted into the presence of Timophanes, they renewed their prayers and supplications; urging him even yet to recede from his tyrannical courses. But all their pleading was without effect. Timophanes first laughed them to scorn; presently, he became exasperated, and would hear no more. Finding words unavailing, they now drew their swords and put him to death. Timoleon lent no hand in the deed, but stood a little way off, with his face hidden, and in a flood of tears.[300]
With the life of Timophanes passed away the despotism which had already begun its crushing influence upon the Corinthians. The mercenary force was either dismissed, or placed in safe hands; the acropolis became again part of a free city; the Corinthian constitution was revived as before. In what manner this change was accomplished, or with what measure of violence it was accompanied, we are left in ignorance; for Plutarch tells us hardly anything except what personally concerns Timoleon. We learn however that the expressions of joy among the citizens, at the death of Timophanes and the restoration of the constitution, were vehement and universal. So strongly did this tide of sentiment run, as to carry along with it, in appearance, even those who really regretted the departed despotism. Afraid to say what they really felt about the deed, these men gave only the more abundant utterance to their hatred of the doer. Though it was good that Timophanes should be killed (they said), yet that he should be killed by his brother, and his brother-in-law, was a deed which tainted both the actors with inexpiable guilt and abomination. The majority of the Corinthian public, however, as well as the most distinguished citizens, took a view completely opposite. They expressed the warmest admiration as well for the doer as for the deed. They extolled the combination of warm family affection with devoted magnanimity and patriotism, each in its right place and properly balanced, which marked the conduct of Timoleon. He had displayed his fraternal affection by encountering the greatest perils in the battle, in order to preserve the life of Timophanes. But when that brother, instead of an innocent citizen, became the worst enemy of Corinth, Timoleon had then obeyed the imperative call of patriotism, to the disregard not less of his own comfort and interest than of fraternal affection.[301]
Such was the decided verdict pronounced by the majority—a majority as well in value as in number—respecting the behavior of Timoleon. In his mind, however, the general strain of encomium was not sufficient to drown, or even to compensate, the language of reproach, in itself so much more pungent, which emanated from the minority. Among that minority too was found one person whose single voice told with profound impression—his mother Demaristê, mother also of the slain Timophanes. Demaristê not only thought of her murdered son with the keenest maternal sorrow, but felt intense horror and execration for the authors of the deed. She imprecated curses on the head of Timoleon, refused even to see him again, and shut her doors against his visits, in spite of earnest supplications.
There wanted nothing more to render Timoleon thoroughly miserable, amidst the almost universal gratitude of Corinth. Of his strong fraternal affection for Timophanes, his previous conduct leaves no doubt. Such affection had to be overcome before he accompanied his tyrannicidal friends to the acropolis, and doubtless flowed back with extreme bitterness upon his soul, after the deed was done. But when to this internal source of distress, was added the sight of persons who shrank from contact with him as a fratricide, together with the sting of the maternal Erinnys—he became agonized even to distraction. Life was odious to him; he refused for some time all food, and determined to starve himself to death. Nothing but the pressing solicitude of friends prevented him from executing the resolve. But no consoling voice could impart to him spirit for the duties of public life. He fled the city and the haunts of men, buried himself in solitude amidst his fields in the country, and refrained from seeing or speaking to any one. For several years he thus hid himself like a self-condemned criminal; and even when time had somewhat mitigated the intensity of his anguish, he still shunned every prominent position, performing nothing more than his indispensable duties as a citizen. An interval of twenty years[302] had now elapsed from the death of Timophanes, to the arrival of the Syracusan application for aid. During all this time, Timoleon, in spite of the sympathy and willingness of admiring fellow-citizens, had never once chosen to undertake any important command or office. At length the vox Dei is heard, unexpectedly, amidst the crowd; dispelling the tormenting nightmare which had so long oppressed his soul, and restoring him to healthy and honorable action.
There is no doubt that the conduct of Timoleon and Æschylus in killing Timophanes was in the highest degree tutelary to Corinth. The despot had already imbrued his hands in the blood of his countrymen, and would have been condemned, by fatal necessity, to go on from bad to worse, multiplying the number of victims, as a condition of preserving his own power. To say that the deed ought not to have been done by near relatives, was tantamount to saying, that it ought not to have been done at all; for none but near relatives could have obtained that easy access which enabled them to effect it. And even Timoleon and Æschylus could not make the attempt without the greatest hazard to themselves. Nothing was more likely than that the death of Timophanes would be avenged on the spot; nor are we told how they escaped such vengeance from the soldiers at hand. It has been already stated that the contemporary sentiment towards Timoleon was divided between admiration of the heroic patriot, and abhorrence of the fratricide; yet with a large preponderance on the side of admiration, especially in the highest and best minds. In modern times the preponderance would be in the opposite scale. The sentiment of duty towards family covers a larger proportion of the field of morality, as compared with obligations towards country, than it did in ancient times; while that intense antipathy against a despot who overtops and overrides the laws, regarding him as the worst of criminals—which stood in the foreground of the ancient virtuous feeling—has now disappeared. Usurpation of the supreme authority is regarded generally among the European public as a crime, only where it displaces an established king already in possession; where there is no king, the successful usurper finds sympathy rather than censure: and few readers would have been displeased with Timoleon, had he even seconded his brother’s attempt. But in the view of Timoleon and of his age generally, even neutrality appeared in the light of treason to his country, when no other man but him could rescue her from the despot. This sentiment is strikingly embodied in the comments of Plutarch; who admires the fraternal tyrannicide, as an act of sublime patriotism, and only complains that the internal emotions of Timoleon were not on a level with the sublimity of the act; that the great mental suffering which he endured afterwards, argued an unworthy weakness of character; that the conviction of imperative patriotic duty, having been once deliberately adopted, ought to have steeled him against scruples, and preserved him from that after-shame and repentance which spoiled half the glory of an heroic act. The antithesis, between Plutarch and the modern European point of view, is here pointed; though I think his criticism unwarranted. There is no reason to presume that Timoleon ever felt ashamed and repentant for having killed his brother. Placed in the mournful condition of a man agitated by conflicting sentiments, and obeying that which he deemed to carry the most sacred obligation, he of necessity suffered from the violation of the other. Probably the reflection that he had himself saved the life of Timophanes, only that the latter might destroy the liberties of his country—contributed materially to his ultimate resolution; a resolution, in which Æschylus, another near relative, took even a larger share than he.
It was in this state of mind that Timoleon was called upon to take the command of the auxiliaries for Syracuse. As soon as the vote had passed, Telekleides addressed to him a few words, emphatically exhorting him to strain every nerve, and to show what he was worth—with this remarkable point in conclusion—“If you now come off with success and glory, we shall pass for having slain a despot; if you fail, we shall be held as fratricides.”[303]
He immediately commenced his preparation of ships and soldiers. But the Corinthians, though they had resolved on the expedition, were not prepared either to vote any considerable subsidy, or to serve in large numbers as volunteers. The means of Timoleon were so extremely limited, that he was unable to equip more than seven triremes, to which the Korkyræans (animated by common sympathy for Syracuse, as of old in the time of the despot Hippokrates[304]) added two more, and the Leukadians one. Nor could he muster more than one thousand soldiers, reinforced afterwards on the voyage to twelve hundred. A few of the principal Corinthians—Eukleides, Telemachus and Neon, among them—accompanied him. But the soldiers seem to have been chiefly miscellaneous mercenaries,—some of whom had served under the Phokians in the Sacred war (recently brought to a close), and had incurred so much odium as partners in the spoliation of the Delphian temple, that they were glad to take foreign service anywhere.[305]
Some enthusiasm was indeed required to determine volunteers in an enterprise of which the formidable difficulties, and the doubtful reward, were obvious from the beginning. But even before the preparations were completed, news came which seemed to render it all but hopeless. Hiketas sent a second mission, retracting all that he said in the first, and desiring that no expedition might be sent from Corinth. Not having received Corinthian aid in time (he said), he had been compelled to enter into alliance with the Carthaginians, who would not permit any Corinthian soldiers to set foot in Sicily. This communication, greatly exasperating the Corinthians against Hiketas, rendered them more hearty in votes to put him down. Yet their zeal for active service, far from being increased, was probably even abated by the aggravation of obstacles thus revealed. If Timoleon even reached Sicily, he would find numberless enemies, without a single friend of importance:—for without Hiketas, the Syracusan people were almost helpless. But it now seemed impossible that Timoleon with his small force could ever touch the Sicilian shore, in the face of a numerous and active Carthaginian fleet.[306]
While human circumstances thus seemed hostile, the gods held out to Timoleon the most favorable signs and omens. Not only did he receive an encouraging answer at Delphi, but while he was actually in the temple, a fillet with intertwined wreaths and symbols of victory fell from one of the statues upon his head. The priestesses of Persephonê learnt from the goddess in a dream, that she was about to sail with Timoleon for Sicily, her own favorite island. Accordingly he caused a new special trireme to be fitted out, sacred to the Two goddesses (Dêmêtêr and Persephonê) who were about to accompany him. And when, after leaving Korkyra, the squadron struck across for a night voyage to the Italian coast, this sacred trireme was seen illumined by a blaze of light from heaven; while a burning torch on high, similar to that which was usually carried in the Eleusinian mysteries, ran along with the ship and guided the pilot to the proper landing place at Metapontum. Such manifestations of divine presence and encouragement, properly certified and commented upon by the prophets, rendered the voyage one of universal hopefulness to the armament.[307]
These hopes, however, were sadly damped, when after disregarding a formal notice from a Carthaginian man-of-war, they sailed down the coast of Italy and at last reached Rhegium. This city, having been before partially revived under the name of Phœbia, by the younger Dionysius, appears now as reconstituted under its old name and with its full former autonomy, since the overthrow of his rule at Lokri and in Italy generally. Twenty Carthaginian triremes, double the force of Timoleon, were found at Rhegium awaiting his arrival—with envoys from Hiketas aboard. These envoys came with what they pretended to be good news. “Hiketas had recently gained a capital victory over Dionysius, whom he had expelled from most part of Syracuse, and was now blocking up in Ortygia; with hopes of soon starving him out, by the aid of a Carthaginian fleet. The common enemy being thus at the end of his resources, the war could not be prolonged. Hiketas therefore trusted that Timoleon would send back to Corinth his fleet and troops, now become superfluous. If Timoleon would do this, he (Hiketas) would be delighted to see him personally at Syracuse, and would gladly consult him in the resettlement of that unhappy city. But he could not admit the Corinthian armament into the island; moreover, even had he been willing, the Carthaginians peremptorily forbade it, and were prepared, in case of need, to repel it with their superior naval force now in the strait.”[308]
The game which Hiketas was playing with the Carthaginians now stood plainly revealed, to the vehement indignation of the armament. Instead of being their friend, or even neutral, he was nothing less than a pronounced enemy, emancipating Syracuse from Dionysius only to divide it between himself and the Carthaginians. Yet with all the ardor of the armament, it was impossible to cross the strait in opposition to an enemy’s fleet of double force. Accordingly Timoleon resorted to a stratagem, in which the leaders and people of Rhegium, eagerly sympathizing with his projects of Sicilian emancipation, coöperated. In an interview with the envoys of Hiketas as well as with the Carthaginian commanders, he affected to accept the conditions prescribed by Hiketas; admitting at once that it was useless to stand out. But he at the same time reminded them, that he had been intrusted with the command of the armament for Sicilian purposes,—and that he should be a disgraced man, if he now conducted it back without touching the island; except under the pressure of some necessity not merely real, but demonstrable to all and attested by unexceptionable witnesses. He therefore desired them to appear, along with him, before the public assembly of Rhegium, a neutral city and common friend of both parties. They would then publicly repeat the communication which they had already made to him, and they would enter into formal engagement for the good treatment of the Syracusans, as soon as Dionysius should be expelled. Such proceeding would make the people of Rhegium witnesses on both points. They would testify on his (Timoleon’s) behalf, when he came to defend himself at Corinth, that he had turned his back only before invincible necessity, and that he had exacted everything in his power in the way of guarantee for Syracuse; they would testify also on behalf of the Syracusans, in case the guarantee now given should be hereafter evaded.[309]
Neither the envoys of Hiketas, nor the Carthaginian commanders, had any motive to decline what seemed to them an unmeaning ceremony. Both of them accordingly attended, along with Timoleon, before the public assembly of Rhegium formally convened. The gates of the city were closed (a practice usual during the time of a public assembly): the Carthaginian men-of-war lay as usual near at hand, but in no state for immediate movement, and perhaps with many of the crews ashore; since all chance of hostility seemed to be past. What had been already communicated to Timoleon from Hiketas and the Carthaginians, was now repeated in formal deposition before the assembly; the envoys of Hiketas probably going into the case more at length, with certain flourishes of speech prompted by their own vanity. Timoleon stood by as an attentive listener; but before he could rise to reply, various Rhegine speakers came forward with comments or questions, which called up the envoys again. A long time was thus insensibly wasted, Timoleon often trying to get an opportunity to speak, but being always apparently constrained to give way to some obtrusive Rhegine. During this long time, however, his triremes in the harbor were not idle. One by one, with as little noise as possible, they quitted their anchorage and rowed out to sea, directing their course towards Sicily. The Carthaginian fleet, though seeing this proceeding, neither knew what it meant, nor had any directions to prevent it. At length the other Grecian triremes were all afloat and in progress; that of Timoleon alone remaining in the harbor. Intimation being secretly given to him as he sat in the assembly, he slipped away from the crowd, his friends concealing his escape—and got aboard immediately. His absence was not discovered at first, the debate continuing as if he were still present, and intentionally prolonged by the Rhegine speakers. At length the truth could no longer be kept back. The envoys and the Carthaginians found out that the assembly and the debate were mere stratagems, and that their real enemy had disappeared. But they found it out too late. Timoleon with his triremes was already on the voyage to Tauromenium in Sicily, where all arrived safe and without opposition. Overreached and humiliated, his enemies left the assembly in vehement wrath against the Rhegines, who reminded them that Carthaginians ought to be the last to complain of deception in others.[310]
The well-managed stratagem, whereby Timoleon had overcome a difficulty to all appearance insurmountable, exalted both his own fame and the spirits of his soldiers. They were now safe in Sicily, at Tauromenium, a recent settlement near the site of the ancient Naxos: receiving hearty welcome from Andromachus, the leading citizen of the place—whose influence was so mildly exercised, and gave such complete satisfaction, that it continued through and after the reform of Timoleon, when the citizens might certainly have swept it away if they had desired. Andromachus, having been forward in inviting Timoleon to come, now prepared to coöperate with him, and returned a spirited reply to the menaces sent over from Rhegium by the Carthaginians, after they had vainly pursued the Corinthian squadron to Tauromenium.
But Andromachus and Tauromenium were but petty auxiliaries compared with the enemies against whom Timoleon had to contend; enemies now more formidable than ever. For Hiketas, incensed with the stratagem practised at Rhegium, and apprehensive of interruption to the blockade which he was carrying on against Ortygia, sent for an additional squadron of Carthaginian men-of-war to Syracuse; the harbor of which place was presently completely beset.[311] A large Carthaginian land force was also acting under Hanno in the western regions of the island, with considerable success against the Campanians of Entella and others.[312] The Sicilian towns had their native despots, Mamerkus at Katana—Leptines at Apollonia[313]—Nikodemus at Kentoripa—Apolloniades at Agyrium[314]—from whom Timoleon could expect no aid, except in so far as they might feel predominant fear of the Carthaginians. And the Syracusans, even when they heard of his arrival at Tauromenium, scarcely ventured to indulge hopes of serious relief from such a handful of men, against the formidable array of Hiketas and the Carthaginians under their walls. Moreover, what guarantee had they that Timoleon would turn out better than Dion, Kallippus, and others before him? seductive promisers of emancipation, who, if they succeeded, forgot the words by which they had won men’s hearts, and thought only of appropriating to themselves the sceptre of the previous despot, perhaps even aggravating all that was bad in his rule? Such was the question asked by many a suffering citizen of Syracuse, amidst that despair and sickness of heart which made the name of an armed liberator sound only like a new deceiver and a new scourge.[315]
It was by acts alone that Timoleon could refute such well-grounded suspicions. But at first, no one believed in him; nor could he escape the baneful effects of that mistrust which his predecessors had everywhere inspired. The messengers whom he sent round were so coldly received, that he seemed likely to find no allies beyond the walls of Tauromenium.
At length one invitation, of great importance, reached him—from the town of Adranum, about forty miles inland from Tauromenium; a native Sikel town, seemingly in part hellenized, inconsiderable in size, but venerated as sacred to the god Adranus, whose worship was diffused throughout all Sicily. The Adranites being politically divided, at the same time that one party sent the invitation to Timoleon, the other despatched a similar message to Hiketas. Either at Syracuse or Leontini, Hiketas was nearer to Adranum than Timoleon at Tauromenium; and lost no time in marching thither, with five thousand troops, to occupy so important a place. He arrived there in the evening, found no enemy, and established his camp without the walls, believing himself already master of the place. Timoleon, with his inferior numbers, knew that he had no chance of success except in surprise. Accordingly, on setting out from Tauromenium, he made no great progress the first day, in order that no report of his approach might reach Adranum; but on the next morning he marched with the greatest possible effort, taking the shortest, yet most rugged paths. On arriving within about three miles of Adranum, he was informed that the troops from Syracuse, having just finished their march, had encamped near the town, not aware of any enemy near. His officers were anxious that the men should be refreshed after their very fatiguing march, before they ventured to attack an army four times superior in number. But Timoleon earnestly protested against any such delay, entreating them to follow him at once against the enemy, as the only chance of finding them unprepared. To encourage them, he at once took up his shield and marched at their head, carrying it on his arm (the shield of the general was habitually carried for him by an orderly), in spite of the fatiguing march, which he had himself performed on foot as well as they. The soldiers obeyed, and the effort was crowned by complete success. The troops of Hiketas, unarmed and at their suppers, were taken so completely by surprise, that in spite of their superior number, they fled with scarce any resistance. From the rapidity of their flight, three hundred of them only were slain, But six hundred were made prisoners, and the whole camp, including its appurtenances, was taken, with scarcely the loss of a man. Hiketas escaped with the rest to Syracuse.[316]
This victory, so rapidly and skilfully won—and the acquisition of Adranum which followed it—produced the strongest sensation throughout Sicily. It counted even for more than a victory; it was a declaration of the gods in favor of Timoleon. The inhabitants of the holy town, opening their gates and approaching him with awe-stricken reverence, recounted the visible manifestations of the god Adranus in his favor. At the moment when the battle was commencing, they had seen the portals of their temple spontaneously burst open, and the god brandishing his spear, with profuse perspiration on his face.[317] Such facts,—verified and attested in a place of peculiar sanctity, and circulated from thence throughout the neighboring communities,—contributed hardly less than the victory to exalt the glory of Timoleon. He received offers of alliance from Tyndaris and several other towns, as well as from Mamerkus despot of Katana, one of the most warlike and powerful princes in the island.[318] So numerous were the reinforcements thus acquired, and so much was his confidence enhanced by recent success, that he now ventured to march even under the walls of Syracuse, and defy Hiketas; who did not think it prudent to hazard a second engagement with the victor of Adranum.[319]
Hiketas was still master of all Syracuse—except Ortygia, against which he had constructed lines of blockade, in conjunction with the Carthaginian fleet occupying the harbor. Timoleon was in no condition to attack the place, and would have been obliged speedily to retire, as his enemies did not choose to come out. But it was soon seen that the manifestations of the Two goddesses, and of the god Adranus, in his favor, were neither barren nor delusive. A real boon was now thrown into his lap, such as neither skill nor valor could have won. Dionysius, blocked up in Ortygia with a scanty supply of provisions, saw from his walls the approaching army of Timoleon, and heard of the victory of Adranum. He had already begun to despair of his own position of Ortygia;[320] where indeed he might perhaps hold out by bold effort and steady endurance, but without any reasonable chance of again becoming master of Syracuse; a chance which Timoleon and the Corinthian intervention cut off more decidedly than ever. Dionysius was a man not only without the energetic character and personal ascendency of his father, which might have made head against such difficulties—but indolent and drunken in his habits, not relishing a sceptre when it could only be maintained by hard fighting, nor stubborn enough to stand out to the last merely as a cause of war.[321] Under these dispositions, the arrival of Timoleon both suggested to him the idea, and furnished him with the means, of making his resignation subservient to the purchase of a safe asylum and comfortable future maintenance: for to a Grecian despot, with the odium of past severities accumulated upon his head, abnegation of power was hardly ever possible, consistent with personal security.[322] But Dionysius felt assured that he might trust to the guarantee of Timoleon and the Corinthians for shelter and protection at Corinth, with as much property as he could carry away with him; since he had the means of purchasing such guarantee by the surrender of Ortygia—a treasure of inestimable worth. Accordingly he resolved to propose a capitulation, and sent envoys to Timoleon for the purpose.
There was little difficulty in arranging terms. Dionysius stipulated only for a safe transit with his movable property to Corinth, and for an undisturbed residence in that city; tendering in exchange the unconditional surrender of Ortygia with all its garrison, arms, and magazines. The convention was concluded forthwith, and three Corinthian officers—Telemachus, Eukleides and Neon—were sent in with four hundred men to take charge of the place. Their entrance was accomplished safely, though they were obliged to elude the blockade by stealing in at several times, and in small companies. Making over to them the possession of Ortygia with the command of its garrison, Dionysius passed, with some money and a small number of companions, into the camp of Timoleon; who conveyed him away, leaving at the same time the neighborhood of Syracuse.[323]
Conceive the position and feelings of Dionysius, a prisoner in the camp of Timoleon, traversing that island over which his father as well as himself had reigned all-powerful, and knowing himself to be the object of either hatred or contempt to every one,—except so far as the immense boon which he had conferred, by surrendering Ortygia, purchased for him an indulgent forbearance! He was doubtless eager for immediate departure to Corinth, while Timoleon was no less anxious to send him thither, as the living evidence of triumph accomplished. Although not fifty days[324] had yet elapsed, since Timoleon’s landing in Sicily, he was enabled already to announce a decisive victory, a great confederacy grouped around him, and the possession of the inexpugnable position of Ortygia, with a garrison equal in number to his own army; the despatches being accompanied by the presence of that very despot, bearing the terrific name of Dionysius, against whom the expedition had been chiefly aimed! Timoleon sent a special trireme[325] to Corinth, carrying Dionysius, and communicating important events, together with the convention which guaranteed to the dethroned ruler an undisturbed residence in that city.
The impression produced at Corinth by the arrival of this trireme and its passengers was powerful beyond all parallel. Astonishment and admiration were universal; for the expedition of Timoleon had started as a desperate venture, in which scarce one among the leading Corinthians had been disposed to embark; nor had any man conceived the possibility of success so rapid as well as so complete. But the victorious prospect in Sicily, with service under the fortunate general, was now the general passion of the citizens. A reinforcement of two thousand hoplites and two hundred cavalry was immediately voted and equipped.[326]
If the triumph excited wonder and joy, the person of Dionysius himself appealed no less powerfully to other feelings. A fallen despot was a sight denied to Grecian eyes; whoever aspired to despotism, put his all to hazard, forfeiting his chance of retiring to a private station. By a remarkable concurrence of circumstances, the exception to this rule was presented just where it was least likely to take place; in the case of the most formidable and odious despotism which had ever overridden the Grecian world. For nearly half a century prior to the expedition of Dion against Syracuse, every one had been accustomed to pronounce the name of Dionysius with a mixture of fear and hatred—the sentiment of prostration before irresistible force. How much difficulty Dion himself found, in overcoming this impression in the minds of his own soldiers, has been already related. Though dissipated by the success of Dion, the antecedent alarm became again revived, when Dionysius recovered his possession of Ortygia, and when the Syracusans made pathetic appeal to Corinth for aid against him. Now, on a sudden, the representative of this extinct greatness, himself bearing the awful name of Dionysius, enters Corinth under a convention, suing only for the humble domicile and unpretending security of a private citizen.[327] The Greek mind was keenly sensitive to such contrasts, which entered largely into every man’s views of human affairs, and were reproduced in a thousand forms by writers and speakers. The affluence of visitors—who crowded to gaze upon and speak to Dionysius, not merely from Corinth, but from other cities of Greece—was immense; some in simple curiosity, others with compassion, a few even with insulting derision. The anecdotes which are recounted seem intended to convey a degrading impression of this last period of his career. But even the common offices of life—the purchase of unguents and condiments at the tavern[328]—the nicety of criticism displayed respecting robes and furniture[329]—looked degrading when performed by the ex-despot of Syracuse. His habit of drinking largely, already contracted, was not likely to become amended in these days of mortification; yet on the whole his conduct seems to have had more dignity than could have been expected. His literary tastes, manifested during the time of his intercourse with Plato, are implied even in the anecdotes intended to disparage him. Thus he is said to have opened a school for teaching boys to read, and to have instructed the public singers in the art of singing or reciting poetry.[330] His name served to subsequent writers, both Greek and Roman,—as those of Crœsus, Polykrates, and Xerxes, serve to Herodotus—for an instance to point a moral on the mutability of human events. Yet the anecdotes recorded about him can rarely be verified, nor can we distinguish real matters of fact from those suitable and impressive myths which so pregnant a situation was sure to bring forth.
Among those who visited him at Corinth was Aristoxenus of Tarentum: for the Tarentine leaders, first introduced by Plato, had maintained their correspondence with Dionysius even after his first expulsion from Syracuse to Lokri, and had vainly endeavored to preserve his unfortunate wife and daughters from the retributive vengeance of the Lokrians. During the palmy days of Dionysius, his envoy Polyarchus had been sent on a mission to Tarentum, where he came into conversation with the chief magistrate Archytas. This conversation Aristoxenus had recorded in writing; probably from the personal testimony of Archytas, whose biography he composed. Polyarchus dwelt upon wealth, power, and sensual enjoyments, as the sole objects worth living for; pronouncing those who possessed them in large masses, as the only beings deserving admiration. At the summit of all stood the Persian King, whom Polyarchus extolled as the most enviable and admirable of mortals. “Next to the Persian King (said he), though with a very long interval, comes our despot of Syracuse.”[331] What had become of Polyarchus, we do not know; but Aristoxenus lived to see the envied Dionysius under the altered phase of his life at Corinth, and probably to witness the ruin of the Persian Kings also. On being asked, what had been the cause of his displeasure against Plato, Dionysius replied, in language widely differing from that of his former envoy Polyarchus, that amidst the many evils which surrounded a despot, none was so mischievous as the unwillingness of his so-called friends to tell him the truth. Such false friends had poisoned the good feeling between him and Plato.[332] This anecdote bears greater mark of being genuine, than others which we read more witty and pungent. The Cynic philosopher Diogenes treated Dionysius with haughty scorn for submitting to live in a private station after having enjoyed so overruling an ascendency. Such was more or less the sentiment of every visitor who saw him; but the matter to be lamented is, that he had not been in a private station from the beginning. He was by nature unfit to tread, even with profit to himself, the perilous and thorny path of a Grecian despot.
The reinforcements decreed by the Corinthians, though equipped without delay and forwarded to Thurii in Italy, were prevented from proceeding farther on shipboard by the Carthaginian squadron at the strait, and were condemned to wait for a favorable opportunity.[333] But the greatest of all reinforcements to Timoleon was, the acquisition of Ortygia. It contained not merely a garrison of two thousand soldiers—who passed (probably much to their own satisfaction) from the declining cause of Dionysius to the victorious banner of Timoleon—but also every species of military stores. There were horses, engines for siege and battery, missiles of every sort, and above all, shields and spears to the amazing number of seventy thousand—if Plutarch’s statement is exact.[334] Having dismissed Dionysius, Timoleon organized a service of small craft from Katana to convey provisions by sea to Ortygia, eluding the Carthaginian guard squadron. He found means to do this with tolerable success,[335] availing himself of winds or bad weather, when the ships of war could not obstruct the entrance of the lesser harbor. Meanwhile he himself returned to Adranum, a post convenient for watching both Leontini and Syracuse. Here two assassins, bribed by Hiketas, were on the point of taking his life, while sacrificing at a festival; and were only prevented by an accident so remarkable, that every one recognized the visible intervention of the gods to protect him.[336]
Meanwhile Hiketas, being resolved to acquire possession of Ortygia, invoked the aid of the full Carthaginian force under Magon. The great harbor of Syracuse was presently occupied by an overwhelming fleet of one hundred and fifty Carthaginian ships of war, while a land force, said to consist of sixty thousand men, came also to join Hiketas, and were quartered by him within the walls of Syracuse. Never before had any Carthaginian troops got footing within those walls. Syracusan liberty, perhaps Syracusan Hellenism, now appeared extinct. Even Ortygia, in spite of the bravery of its garrison under the Corinthian Neon, seemed not long tenable, against repeated attack and battery of the walls, combined with strict blockade to keep out supplies by sea. Still, however, though the garrison was distressed, some small craft with provisions from Katana contrived to slip in; a fact, which induced Hiketas and Magon to form the plan of attacking that town, thinking themselves strong enough to accomplish this by a part of their force, without discontinuing the siege of Ortygia. Accordingly they sailed forth from the harbor, and marched from the city of Syracuse, with the best part of their armament, to attack Katana, leaving Ortygia still under blockade. But the commanders left behind were so negligent in their watch, that Neon soon saw from the walls of Ortygia the opportunity of attacking them with advantage. Making a sudden and vigorous sally, he fell upon the blockading army unawares, routed them at all points with serious loss, and pressed his pursuit so warmly, that he got possession of Achradina, expelling them from that important section of the city. The provisions and money, acquired herein at a critical moment, rendered this victory important. But what gave it the chief value was, the possession of Achradina which Neon immediately caused to be joined on to Ortygia by a new line of fortifications, and thus held the two in combination.[337] Ortygia had been before (as I have already remarked) completely distinct from Achradina. It is probable that the population of Achradina, delighted to be liberated from the Carthaginians, lent zealous aid to Neon both in the defence of their own walls, and in the construction of the new connecting lines towards Ortygia; for which the numerous intervening tombs would supply materials.
This gallant exploit of Neon permanently changed the position of the combatants at Syracuse. A horseman started instantly to convey the bad news to Hiketas and Magon near Katana. Both of them returned forthwith; but they returned only to occupy half of the city—Tycha, Neapolis, and Epipolæ. It became extremely difficult to prosecute a successful siege or blockade of Ortygia and Achradina united: besides that Neon had now obtained abundant supplies for the moment.
Meanwhile Timoleon too was approaching, reinforced by the new Corinthian division; who, having been at first detained at Thurii, and becoming sick of delay, had made their way inland, across the Bruttian territory, to Rhegium. They were fortunate enough to find the strait unguarded; for the Carthaginian admiral Hanno—having seen their ships laid up at Thurii, and not anticipating their advance by land—had first returned with his squadron to the Strait of Messina, and next, hoping by a stratagem to frighten the garrison of Ortygia into surrender, had sailed to the harbor of Syracuse with his triremes decorated as if after a victory. His seamen with wreaths round their heads, shouted as they passed into the harbor under the walls of Ortygia, that the Corinthian squadron approaching the strait had been all captured, and exhibited as proofs of the victory certain Grecian shields hung up aboard. By this silly fabrication, Hanno probably produced a serious dismay among the garrison of Ortygia. But he purchased such temporary satisfaction at the cost of leaving the strait unguarded, and allowing the Corinthian division to cross unopposed from Italy into Sicily. On reaching Rhegium, they not only found the strait free, but also a complete and sudden calm, succeeding upon several days of stormy weather. Embarking immediately on such ferry boats and fishing craft as they could find, and swimming their horses alongside by the bridle, they reached the Sicilian coast without loss or difficulty.[338]
Thus did the gods again show their favor towards Timoleon by an unusual combination of circumstances, and by smiting the enemy with blindness. So much did the tide of success run along with him, that the important town of Messênê declared itself among his allies, admitting the new Corinthian soldiers immediately on their landing. With little delay, they proceeded forward to join Timoleon; who thought himself strong enough, notwithstanding that even with this reinforcement he could only command four thousand men, to march up to the vicinity of Syracuse, and there to confront the immeasurably superior force of his enemies.[339] He appears to have encamped near the Olympieion, and the bridge over the river Anapus.
Though Timoleon was sure of the coöperation of Neon and the Corinthian garrison in Ortygia and Achradina, yet he was separated from them by the numerous force of Hiketas and Magon, who occupied Epipolæ, Neapolis, and Tycha, together with the low ground between Epipolæ and the Great Harbor; while the large Carthaginian fleet filled the Harbor itself. On a reasonable calculation, Timoleon seemed to have little chance of success. But suspicion had already begun in the mind of Magon, sowing the seeds of disunion between him and Hiketas. The alliance between Carthaginians and Greeks was one unnatural to both parties, and liable to be crossed, at every mischance, by mutual distrust, growing out of antipathy which each party felt in itself and knew to subsist in the other. The unfortunate scheme of marching to Katana, with the capital victory gained by Neon in consequence of that absence, made Magon believe that Hiketas was betraying him. Such apprehensions were strengthened, when he saw in his front the army of Timoleon, posted on the river Anapus—and when he felt that he was in a Greek city generally disaffected to him, while Neon was at his rear in Ortygia and Achradina. Under such circumstances, Magon conceived the whole safety of his Carthaginians as depending on the zealous and faithful coöperation of Hiketas, in whom he had now ceased to confide. And his mistrust, once suggested, was aggravated by the friendly communication which he saw going on between the soldiers of Timoleon and those of Hiketas. These soldiers, all Greeks and mercenaries fighting for a country not their own, encountered each other, on the field of battle, like enemies,—but conversed in a pacific and amicable way, during intervals, in their respective camps. Both were now engaged, without disturbing each other, in catching eels amidst the marshy and watery ground between Epipolæ and the Anapus. Interchanging remarks freely, they were admiring the splendor and magnitude of Syracuse with its great maritime convenience,—when one of Timoleon’s soldiers observed to the opposite party—“And this magnificent city, you, Greeks as you are, are striving to barbarise, planting these Carthaginian cut-throats nearer to us than they now are; though our first anxiety ought to be, to keep them as far off as possible from Greece. Do you really suppose that they have brought up this host from the Atlantic and the pillars of Herakles, all for the sake of Hiketas and his rule? Why, if Hiketas took measure of affairs like a true ruler, he would not thus turn out his brethren, and bring in an enemy to his country; he would ensure to himself an honorable sway, by coming to an understanding with the Corinthians and Timoleon.” Such was the colloquy passing between the soldiers of Timoleon and those of Hiketas, and speedily made known to the Carthaginians. Having made apparently strong impression on those to whom it was addressed, it justified alarm in Magon; who was led to believe that he could no longer trust his Sicilian allies. Without any delay, he put all his troops aboard the fleet, and in spite of the most strenuous remonstrances from Hiketas sailed away to Africa.[340]
On the next day, when Timoleon approached to the attack, he was amazed to find the Carthaginian army and fleet withdrawn. His soldiers, scarcely believing their eyes, laughed to scorn the cowardice of Magon. Still however Hiketas determined to defend Syracuse with his own troops, in spite of the severe blow inflicted by Magon’s desertion. That desertion had laid open both the Harbor, and the lower ground near the Harbor; so that Timoleon was enabled to come into direct communication with his garrison in Ortygia and Achradina, and to lay plans for a triple simultaneous onset. He himself undertook to attack the southern front of Epipolæ towards the river Anapus, where the city was strongest; the Corinthian Isias was instructed to make a vigorous assault from Achradina, or the eastern side; while Deinarchus and Demaretus, the generals who had conducted the recent reinforcement from Corinth, were ordered to attack the northern wall of Epipolæ, or the Hexapylon;[341] they were probably sent round from Ortygia, by sea, to land at Trogilus. Hiketas, holding as he did the aggregate consisting of Epipolæ, Tycha, and Neapolis, was assailed on three sides at once. He had a most defensible position, which a good commander, with brave and faithful troops, might have maintained against forces more numerous than those of Timoleon. Yet in spite of such advantages, no effective resistance was made, nor even attempted. Timoleon not only took the place, but took it without the loss of a single man, killed or wounded. Hiketas and his followers fled to Leontini.[342]
The desertion of Magon explains of course a great deal of discouragement among the soldiers of Hiketas. But when we read the astonishing facility of the capture, it is evident that there must have been something more than discouragement. The soldiers on defence were really unwilling to use their arms for the purpose of repelling Timoleon, and keeping up the dominion of Hiketas in Syracuse. When we find this sentiment so powerfully manifested, we cannot but discern that the aversion of these men to serve, in what they looked upon as a Carthaginian cause, threw into the hands of Timoleon an easy victory, and that the mistrustful retreat of Magon was not so absurd and cowardly as Plutarch represents.[343]
The Grecian public, however, not minutely scrutinizing preliminary events, heard the easy capture as a fact, and heard it with unbounded enthusiasm. From Sicily and Italy the news rapidly spread to Corinth and other parts of Greece. Everywhere the sentiment was the same; astonishment and admiration, not merely at the magnitude of the conquest, but also at the ease and rapidity with which it had been achieved. The arrival of the captive Dionysius at Corinth had been in itself a most impressive event. But now the Corinthians learnt the disappearance of the large Carthaginian host and the total capture of Syracuse, without the loss of a man; and that too before they were even assured that their second reinforcement, which they knew to have been blocked up at Thurii, had been able to touch the Sicilian shore.
Such transcendent novelties excited even in Greece, and much more in Sicily itself, a sentiment towards Timoleon such as hardly any Greek had ever yet drawn to himself. His bravery, his skilful plans, his quickness of movement, were indeed deservedly admired. But in this respect, others had equalled him before; and we may remark that even the Corinthian Neon, in his capture of Achradina, had rivalled anything performed by his superior officer. But that which stood without like or second in Timoleon—that which set a peculiar stamp upon all his meritorious qualities—was, his superhuman good fortune; or—what in the eyes of most Greeks was the same thing in other words—the unbounded favor with which the gods had cherished both his person and his enterprise. Though greatly praised as a brave and able man, Timoleon was still more affectionately hailed as an enviable man.[344] “Never had the gods been so manifest in their dispensations of kindness towards any mortal.[345]” The issue, which Telekleides had announced as being upon trial when Timoleon was named, now stood triumphantly determined. After the capture of Syracuse, we may be sure that no one ever denounced Timoleon as a fratricide;—every one extolled him as a tyrannicide. The great exploits of other eminent men, such as Agesilaus and Epaminondas, had been achieved at the cost of hardship, severe fighting, wounds and death to those concerned, etc., all of which counted as so many deductions from the perfect mental satisfaction of the spectator. Like an oration or poem smelling of the lamp, they bore too clearly the marks of preliminary toil and fatigue. But Timoleon, as the immortal gods descending to combat on the plain of Troy, accomplished splendid feats,—overthrew what seemed insuperable obstacles—by a mere first appearance, and without an effort. He exhibited to view a magnificent result, executed with all that apparent facility belonging as a privilege to the inspirations of first-rate genius.[346] Such a spectacle of virtue and good fortune combined—glorious consummation with graceful facility—was new to the Grecian world.
For all that he had done, Timoleon took little credit to himself. In the despatch which announced to the Corinthians his Veni, Vidi, Vici, as well as in his discourses at Syracuse, he ascribed the whole achievement to fortune or to the gods, whom he thanked for having inscribed his name as nominal mover of their decree for liberating Sicily.[347] We need not doubt that he firmly believed himself to be a favored instrument of the divine will, and that he was even more astonished than others at the way in which locked gates flew open before him. But even if he had not believed it himself, there was great prudence in putting this coloring on the facts; not simply because he thereby deadened the attacks of envy, but because, under the pretence of modesty, he really exalted himself much higher. He purchased for himself a greater hold on men’s minds towards his future achievements, as the beloved of the gods, than he would ever have possessed as only a highly endowed mortal. And though what he had already done was prodigious, there still remained much undone; new difficulties, not the same in kind, yet hardly less in magnitude, to be combated.
It was not only new difficulties, but also new temptations, which Timoleon had to combat. Now began for him that moment of trial, fatal to so many Greeks before him. Proof was to be shown, whether he could swallow, without intoxication or perversion, the cup of success administered to him in such overflowing fulness. He was now complete master of Syracuse; master of it too with the fortifications of Ortygia yet standing,—with all the gloomy means of despotic compression, material and moral, yet remaining in his hand. In respect of personal admiration and prestige of success, he stood greatly above Dion, and yet more above the elder Dionysius in the early part of his career. To set up for himself as despot at Syracuse, burying in oblivion all that he had said or promised before, was a step natural and feasible; not indeed without peril or difficulty, but carrying with it chances of success equal to those of other nascent despotisms, and more than sufficient to tempt a leading Greek politician of average morality. Probably most people in Sicily actually expected that he would avail himself of his unparalleled position to stand forth as a new Dionysius. Many friends and partisans would strenuously recommend it. They would even deride him as an idiot (as Solon had been called in his time[348]) for not taking the boon which the gods set before him, and for not hauling up the net when the fish were already caught in it. There would not be wanting other advisers to insinuate the like recommendation under the pretence of patriotic disinterestedness, and regard for the people whom he had come to liberate. The Syracusans (it would be contended), unfit for a free constitution, must be supplied with liberty in small doses, of which Timoleon was the best judge: their best interests require that Timoleon should keep in his hands the anti-popular power with little present diminution, in order to restrain their follies, and ensure to them benefits which they would miss if left to their own free determination.
Considerations of this latter character had doubtless greatly weighed with Dion in the hour of his victory, over and above mere naked ambition, so as to plunge him into that fatal misjudgment and misconduct out of which he never recovered. But the lesson deducible from the last sad months of Dion’s career was not lost upon Timoleon. He was found proof, not merely against seductions within his own bosom, but against provocations or plausibilities from without. Neither for self-regarding purposes, nor for beneficent purposes, would he be persuaded to grasp and perpetuate the anti-popular power. The moment of trial was that in which the genuine heroism and rectitude of judgment united in his character, first shone forth with its full brightness.
Master as he now was of all Syracuse, with its fivefold aggregate, Ortygia, Achradina, Tycha, Neapolis, and Epipolæ—he determined to strike down at once that great monument of servitude which the elder Dionysius had imposed upon his fellow citizens. Without a moment’s delay, he laid his hand to the work. He invited by proclamation every Syracusan who chose, to come with iron instruments, and coöperate with him in demolishing the separate stronghold, fortification, and residence, constructed by the elder Dionysius in Ortygia; as well as the splendid funeral monument erected to the memory of that despot by his son and successor.[349] This was the first public act executed in Syracuse by his order; the first manifestation of the restored sovereignty of the people; the first outpouring of sentiment, at once free, hearty, and unanimous, among men trodden down by half a century of servitude; the first fraternizing coöperation of Timoleon and his soldiers with them, for the purpose of converting the promise of liberation into an assured fact. That the actual work of demolition was executed by the hands and crowbars of the Syracusans themselves, rendered the whole proceeding an impressive compact between them and Timoleon. It cleared away all mistake, all possibility of suspicion, as to his future designs. It showed that he had not merely forsworn despotism for himself, but that he was bent on rendering it impossible for any one else, when he began by overthrowing what was not only the conspicuous memento, but also the most potent instrument, of the past despots. It achieved the inestimable good of inspiring at once confidence in his future proceedings, and disposing the Syracusans to listen voluntarily to his advice. And it was beneficial, not merely in smoothing the way to farther measures of pacific reconstruction, but also in discharging the reactionary antipathies of the Syracusans, inevitable after so long an oppression, upon unconscious stones; and thus leaving less of it to be wreaked on the heads of political rivals, compromised in the former proceedings.
This important act of demolition was farther made subservient to a work of new construction, not less significant of the spirit in which Timoleon had determined to proceed. Having cleared away the obnoxious fortress, he erected upon the same site, and probably with the same materials, courts for future judicature. The most striking symbol and instrument of popular government thus met the eye as a local substitute for that of the past despotism.
Deep was the gratitude of the Syracusans for these proceedings—the first fruits of Timoleon’s established ascendency. And if we regard the intrinsic importance of the act itself—the manner in which an emphatic meaning was made to tell as well upon the Syracusan eye as upon the Syracusan mind—the proof evinced not merely of disinterested patriotism, but also of prudence in estimating the necessities of the actual situation—lastly, the foundation thus laid for accomplishing farther good—if we take all these matters together, we shall feel that Timoleon’s demolition of the Dionysian Bastile, and erection in its place of a building for the administration of justice, was among the most impressive phenomena in Grecian history.
The work which remained to be done was indeed such as to require the best spirit, energy and discretion, both on his part and on that of the Syracusans. Through long oppression and suffering, the city was so impoverished and desolate, that the market-place (if we were to believe what must be an exaggeration of Plutarch) served as pasture for horses, and as a place of soft repose for the grooms who attended them. Other cities of Sicily exhibited the like evidence of decay, desertion, and poverty. The manifestations of city life had almost ceased in Sicily. Men were afraid to come into the city, which they left to the despot and his mercenaries, retiring themselves to live on their fields and farms, and shrinking from all acts of citizenship. Even the fields were but half cultivated, so as to produce nothing beyond bare subsistence. It was the first anxiety of Timoleon to revive the once haughty spirit of Syracuse out of this depth of insecurity and abasement; to which revival no act could be more conducive than his first proceedings in Ortygia. His next step was to bring together, by invitations and proclamations everywhere circulated, those exiles who had been expelled, or forced to seek refuge elsewhere, during the recent oppression. Many of these, who had found shelter in various parts of Sicily and Italy, obeyed his summons with glad readiness.[350] But there were others, who had fled to Greece or the Ægean islands, and were out of the hearing of any proclamations from Timoleon. To reach persons thus remote, recourse was had, by him and by the Syracusans conjointly, to Corinthian intervention. The Syracusans felt so keenly how much was required to be done for the secure reorganization of their city as a free community, that they eagerly concurred with Timoleon in entreating the Corinthians to undertake, a second time, the honorable task of founders of Syracuse.[351]
Two esteemed citizens, Kephalus and Dionysius, were sent from Corinth to coöperate with Timoleon and the Syracusans, in constituting the community anew, on a free and popular basis, and in preparing an amended legislation.[352] These commissioners adopted, for their main text and theme, the democratical constitution and laws as established by Dioklês about seventy years before, which the usurpation of Dionysius had subverted when they were not more than seven years old. Kephalus professed to do nothing more than revive the laws of Dioklês, with such comments, modifications, and adaptations, as the change of times and circumstances had rendered necessary.[353] In the laws respecting inheritance and property, he is said to have made no change at all; but unfortunately we are left without any information what were the laws of Dioklês, or how they were now modified. It is certain, however, that the political constitution of Dioklês was a democracy, and that the constitution as now reëstablished was democratical also.[354] Beyond this general fact we can assert nothing.
Though a free popular constitution, however, was absolutely indispensable, and a good constitution a great boon—it was not the only pressing necessity for Syracuse. There was required, no less an importation of new citizens; and not merely of poor men bringing with them their arms and their industry, but also of persons in affluent or easy circumstances, competent to purchase lands and houses. Besides much land ruined or gone out of cultivation, the general poverty of the residents was extreme; while at the same time the public exigencies were considerable, since it was essential, among other things, to provide pay for those very soldiers of Timoleon to whom they owed their liberation. The extent of poverty was painfully attested by the fact that they were constrained to sell those public statues which formed the ornaments of Syracuse and its temples; a cruel wound to the sentiments of every Grecian community. From this compulsory auction, however, they excepted by special vote the statue of Gelon, in testimony of gratitude for his capital victory at Himera over the Carthaginians.[355]
For the renovation of a community thus destitute, new funds as well as new men were wanted; and the Corinthians exerted themselves actively to procure both. Their first proclamation was indeed addressed specially to Syracusan exiles, whom they invited to resume their residence at Syracuse as free and autonomous citizens under a just allotment of lands. They caused such proclamation to be publicly made at all the Pan-hellenic and local festivals; prefaced by a certified assurance that the Corinthians had already overthrown both the despotism and the despot—a fact which the notorious presence of Dionysius himself at Corinth contributed to spread more widely than any formal announcement. They farther engaged, if the exiles would muster at Corinth, to provide transports, convoy, and leaders, to Syracuse, free of all cost. The number of exiles, who profited by the invitation and came to Corinth, though not inconsiderable, was still hardly strong enough to enter upon the proposed Sicilian renovation. They themselves therefore entreated the Corinthians to invite additional colonists from other Grecian cities. It was usually not difficult to find persons disposed to embark in a new settlement, if founded under promising circumstances, and effected under the positive management of a powerful presiding city.[356] There were many opulent persons anxious to exchange the condition of metics in an old city for that of full citizens in a new one. Hence the more general proclamation now issued by the Corinthians attracted numerous applicants, and a large force of colonists was presently assembled at Corinth; an aggregate of ten thousand persons, including the Syracusan exiles.[357]
When conveyed to Syracuse, by the fleet and under the formal sanction of the Corinthian government, these colonists found a still larger number there assembled, partly Syracusan exiles, yet principally emigrants from the different cities of Sicily and Italy. The Italian Greeks, at this time hard pressed by the constantly augmenting force of the Lucanians and Bruttians, were becoming so unable to defend themselves without foreign aid, that several were probably disposed to seek other homes. The invitation of Timoleon counted even more than that of the Corinthians as an allurement to new comers—from the unbounded admiration and confidence which he now inspired; more especially as he was actually present at Syracuse. Accordingly, the total of immigrants from all quarters (restored exiles as well as others) to Syracuse in its renovated freedom was not less than sixty thousand.[358]
Nothing can be more mortifying than to find ourselves without information as to the manner in which Timoleon and Kephalus dealt with this large influx. Such a state of things, as it produces many new embarrassments and conflicting interests, so it calls for a degree of resource and original judgment which furnishes good measure of the capacity of all persons concerned, rendering the juncture particularly interesting and instructive. Unfortunately we are not permitted to know the details. The land of Syracuse is said to have been distributed, and the houses to have been sold for one thousand talents—the large sum of 230,000l. A right of preëmption was allowed to the Syracusan exiles for repurchasing the houses formerly their own. As the houses were sold, and that too for a considerable price—so we may presume that the lands were sold also, and that the incoming settlers did not receive their lots gratuitously. But how they were sold, or how much of the territory was sold, we are left in ignorance. It is certain, however, that the effect of the new immigration was not only to renew the force and population of Syracuse, but also to furnish relief to the extreme poverty of the antecedent residents. A great deal of new money must thus have been brought in.[359]
Such important changes doubtless occupied a considerable time, though we are not enabled to arrange them in months or years. In the meantime Timoleon continued to act in such a manner as to retain, and even to strengthen, the confidence and attachment of the Syracusans. He employed his forces actively in putting down and expelling the remaining despots throughout the island. He first attacked Hiketas, his old enemy, at Leontini; and compelled him to capitulate, on condition of demolishing the fortified citadel, abdicating his rule, and living as a private citizen in the town. Leptines, despot of Apollonia and of several other neighboring townships, was also constrained to submit, and to embrace the offer of a transport to Corinth.[360]
It appears that the submission of Hiketas was merely a feint, to obtain time for strengthening himself by urging the Carthaginians to try another invasion of Sicily.[361] They were the more disposed to this step as Timoleon, anxious to relieve the Syracusans, sent his soldiers under the Corinthian Deinarchus to find pay and plunder for themselves in the Carthaginian possessions near the western corner of Sicily. This invasion, while it abundantly supplied the wants of the soldiers, encouraged Entella and several other towns to revolt from Carthage. The indignation among the Carthaginians had been violent, when Magon returned after suddenly abandoning the harbor of Syracuse to Timoleon. Unable to make his defence satisfactory, Magon only escaped a worse death by suicide, after which his dead body was crucified by public order. And the Carthaginians now resolved on a fresh effort, to repair their honor as well as to defend their territory.[362]
The effort was made on a vast scale, and with long previous preparations. An army said to consist of seventy thousand men, under Hasdrubal and Hamilkar, was disembarked at Lilybæum, on the western corner of the island; besides which there was a fleet of two hundred triremes, and one thousand attendant vessels carrying provisions, warlike stores, engines for sieges, war-chariots with four horses, etc.[363] But the most conspicuous proof of earnest effort, over and above numbers and expense, was furnished by the presence of no less than ten thousand native infantry from Carthage; men clothed with panoplies costly, complete, and far heavier than ordinary—carrying white shields and wearing elaborate breastplates besides. These men brought to the campaign ample private baggage; splendid goblets and other articles of gold and silver, such as beseemed the rich families of that rich city. The élite of the division—twenty-five hundred in number, or one-fourth part—formed what was called the Sacred Band of Carthage.[364] It has been already stated, that in general, the Carthaginians caused their military service to be performed by hired foreigners, with few of their own citizens. Hence this army stood particularly distinguished, and appeared the more formidable on their landing; carrying panic, by the mere report, all over Sicily not excepting even Syracuse. The Corinthian troops ravaging the Carthaginian province were obliged to retreat in haste, and sent to Timoleon for reinforcement.
The miscellaneous body of immigrants recently domiciliated at Syracuse, employed in the cares inseparable from new settlement, had not come prepared to face so terrible a foe. Though Timoleon used every effort to stimulate their courage, and though his exhortations met with full apparent response, yet such was the panic prevailing, that comparatively few would follow him to the field. He could assemble no greater total than twelve thousand men; including about three thousand Syracusan citizens—the paid force which he had round him at Syracuse—that other paid force under Deinarchus, who had been just compelled by the invaders to evacuate the Carthaginian province—and finally such allies as would join.[365] His cavalry was about one thousand in number. Nevertheless, in spite of so great an inferiority, Timoleon determined to advance and meet the enemy in their own province, before they should have carried ravage over the territory of Syracuse and her allies. But when he approached near to the border, within the territory of Agrigentum, the alarm and mistrust of his army threatened to arrest his farther progress. An officer among his mercenaries, named Thrasius, took advantage of the prevailing feeling to raise a mutiny against him, persuading the soldiers that Timoleon was madly hurrying them on to certain ruin, against an enemy six times superior in number, and in a hostile country eight days’ march from Syracuse; so that there would be neither salvation for them in case of reverse, nor interment if they were slain. Their pay being considerably in arrear Thrasius urged them to return to Syracuse for the purpose of extorting the money, instead of following a commander, who could not or would not requite them, upon such desperate service. Such was the success and plausibility of these recommendations, under the actual discouragement, that they could hardly be counterworked by all the efforts of Timoleon. Nor was there ever any conjuncture in which his influence, derived as well from unbounded personal esteem as from belief in his favor with the gods, was so near failing. As it was, though he succeeded in heartening up and retaining the large body of his army, yet Thrasius, with one thousand of the mercenaries, insisted upon returning, and actually did return, to Syracuse. Moreover Timoleon was obliged to send an order along with them to the authorities at home, that these men must immediately, and at all cost, receive their arrears of pay. The wonder is, that he succeeded in his efforts to retain the rest, after insuring to the mutineers a lot which seemed so much safer and more enviable. Thrasius, a brave man, having engaged in the service of the Phokians Philomêlus and Onomarchus, had been concerned in the pillage of the Delphian temple, which drew upon him the aversion of the Grecian world.[366] How many of the one thousand seceding soldiers, who now followed him to Syracuse, had been partners in the same sacrilegious act, we cannot tell. But it is certain that they were men who had taken service with Timoleon in hopes of a period, not merely of fighting, but also of lucrative license, such as his generous regard for the settled inhabitants would not permit.
Having succeeded in keeping up the spirits of his remaining army, and affecting to treat the departure of so many cowards as a positive advantage, Timoleon marched on westward into the Carthaginian province, until he approached within a short distance of the river Krimêsus, a stream which rises in the mountainous region south of Panormus (Palermo), runs nearly southward, and falls into the sea near Selinus. Some mules, carrying loads of parsley, met him on the road; a fact which called forth again the half-suppressed alarm of the soldiers, since parsley was habitually employed for the wreaths deposited on tombstones. But Timoleon, taking a handful of it and weaving a wreath for his own head, exclaimed, “This is our Corinthian symbol of victory: it is the sacred herb with which we decorate our victors at the Isthmian festival. It comes to us here spontaneously, as an earnest of our approaching success.” Insisting emphatically on this theme, and crowning himself as well as his officers with the parsley, he rekindled the spirits of the army, and conducted them forward to the top of the eminence, immediately above the course of the Krimêsus.[367]
It was just at that moment that the Carthaginian army were passing the river, on their march to meet him. The confused noise and clatter of their approach were plainly heard; though the mist of a May morning,[368] overhanging the valley, still concealed from the eye the army crossing. Presently the mist ascended from the lower ground to the hill tops around, leaving the river and the Carthaginians beneath in conspicuous view. Formidable was the aspect which they presented. The war-chariots-and-four,[369] which formed their front, had already crossed the river, and appear to have been halting a little way in advance. Next to them followed the native Carthaginians, ten thousand chosen hoplites with white shields, who had also in part crossed and were still crossing; while the main body of the host, the foreign mercenaries, were pressing behind in a disorderly mass to get to the bank, which appears to have been in part rugged. Seeing how favorable was the moment for attacking them, while thus disarrayed and bisected by the river, Timoleon, after a short exhortation, gave orders immediately to charge down the hill.[370] His Sicilian allies, with some mercenaries intermingled, were on the two wings; while he himself, with the Syracusans and the best of the mercenaries, occupied the centre. Demaretus with his cavalry was ordered to assail the Carthaginians first, before they could form regularly. But the chariots in their front, protecting the greater part of the line, left him only the power of getting at them partially through the vacant intervals. Timoleon, soon perceiving that his cavalry accomplished little, recalled them and ordered them to charge on the flanks, while he himself, with all the force of his infantry, undertook to attack in front. Accordingly, seizing his shield from the attendant, he marched forward in advance, calling aloud to the infantry around to be of good cheer and follow. Never had his voice been heard so predominant and heart-stirring; the effect of it was powerfully felt on the spirits of all around, who even believed that they heard a god speaking along with him.[371] Reëchoing his shout emphatically, they marched forward to the charge with the utmost alacrity—in compact order, and under the sound of trumpets.
The infantry were probably able to evade or break through the bulwark of interposed chariots with greater ease than the cavalry, though Plutarch does not tell us how this was done. Timoleon and his soldiers then came into close and furious contest with the chosen Carthaginian infantry, who resisted with a courage worthy of their reputation. Their vast shields, iron breastplates, and brazen helmets (forming altogether armor heavier than was worn usually even by Grecian hoplites), enabled them to repel the spear-thrusts of the Grecian assailants, who were compelled to take to their swords, and thus to procure themselves admission within the line of Carthaginian spears, so as to break their ranks. Such use of swords is what we rarely read of in a Grecian battle. Though the contest was bravely maintained by the Carthaginians, yet they were too much loaded with armor to admit of anything but fighting in a dense mass. They were already losing their front rank warriors, the picked men of the whole, and beginning to fight at a disadvantage—when the gods, yet farther befriending Timoleon, set the seal to their discomfiture by an intervention manifest and terrific.[372] A storm of the most violent character began. The hill-tops were shrouded in complete darkness; the wind blew a hurricane; rain and hail poured abundantly, with all the awful accompaniments of thunder and lightning. To the Greeks, this storm was of little inconvenience, because it came in their backs. But to the Carthaginians, pelting as it did directly in their faces, it occasioned both great suffering, and soul-subduing alarm. The rain and hail beat, and the lightning flashed, in their faces, so that they could not see to deal with hostile combatants: the noise of the wind, and of hail rattling against their armor, prevented the orders of their officers from being heard: the folds of their voluminous military tunics were surcharged with rain-water, so as to embarrass their movements: the ground presently became so muddy that they could not keep their footing; and when they once slipped, the weight of their equipment forbade all recovery. The Greeks, comparatively free from inconvenience, and encouraged by the evident disablement of their enemies, pressed them with redoubled energy. At length, when the four hundred front rank men of the Carthaginians had perished by a brave death in their places, the rest of the White-shields turned their backs and sought relief in flight. But flight, too, was all but impossible. They encountered their own troops in the rear advancing up, and trying to cross the Krimêsus; which river itself was becoming every minute fuller and more turbid, through the violent rain. The attempt to recross was one of such unspeakable confusion, that numbers perished in the torrent. Dispersing in total rout, the whole Carthaginian army thought only of escape, leaving their camp and baggage a prey to the victors, who pursued them across the river and over the hills on the other side, inflicting prodigious slaughter. In this pursuit the cavalry of Timoleon, not very effective during the battle, rendered excellent service; pressing the fugitive Carthaginians one over another in mass, and driving them, overloaded with their armor, into mud and water, from whence they could not get clear.[373]
No victory in Grecian history was ever more complete than that of Timoleon at the Krimêsus. Ten thousand Carthaginians are said to have been slain, and fifteen thousand made prisoners. Upon these numbers no stress is to be laid; but it is certain that the total of both must have been very great. Of the war-chariots, many were broken during the action, and all that remained, two hundred in number, fell into the hands of the victors. But that which rendered the loss most serious, and most painfully felt at Carthage, was, that it fell chiefly upon the native Carthaginian troops, and much less upon the foreign mercenaries. It is even said that the Sacred Battalion of Carthage, comprising twenty-five hundred soldiers belonging to the most considerable families in Carthage, were all slain to a man; a statement, doubtless, exaggerated, yet implying a fearful real destruction. Many of these soldiers purchased safe escape by throwing away their ornamented shields and costly breastplates, which the victors picked up in great numbers—one thousand breastplates, and not less than ten thousand shields. Altogether, the spoil collected was immense—in arms, in baggage, and in gold and silver from the plundered camp; occupying the Greeks so long in the work of pursuit and capture, that they did not find time to erect their trophy until the third day after the battle. Timoleon left the chief part of the plunder,[374] as well as most part of the prisoners, in the hands of the individual captors, who enriched themselves amply by the day’s work. Yet there still remained a large total for the public Syracusan chest; five thousand prisoners, and a miscellaneous spoil of armor and precious articles, piled up in imposing magnificence around the general’s tent.
The Carthaginian fugitives did not rest until they reached Lilybæum. And even there, such was their discouragement—so profound their conviction that the wrath of the gods was upon them—that they could scarcely be induced to go on shipboard for the purpose of returning to Carthage; persuaded as they were that if once caught out at sea, the gods in their present displeasure would never let them reach land.[375] At Carthage itself also, the sorrow and depression was unparalleled: sorrow private as well as public, from the loss of so great a number of principal citizens. It was even feared that the victorious Timoleon would instantly cross the sea and attack Carthage on her own soil. Immediate efforts were however made to furnish a fresh army for Sicily, composed of foreign mercenaries with few or no native citizens. Giskon, the son of Hanno, who passed for their most energetic citizen, was recalled from exile, and directed to get together this new armament.